Is there anybody reading this that has never experienced the end of an era? If so, lucky you.
Last week, I experienced the first part of a two-part series of watching an era end. My father left for destinations unknown. I could go into my thoughts on the afterlife, but not now, maybe later. With his departure, I have now lost both of my parents. The two who brought me into the world, gave me love and support even when I may not have deserved it, watched me flourish, struggled with the parts of my life they didn't like. They had to accept I wasn't perfect, just like I had to accept they weren't either.
I've been told by several people how lucky I was to have great parents. I think it's only been in recent years that I have actually been able to say "Yes, I do" which now becomes "Yes, I did". I never had to tell them. They just knew.
It wasn't easy saying goodbye. It wasn't the first time, and it was this time either. It still seems surreal to me. The actual moment when he left, then to the funeral, and on to the cemetery where I had to leave him. I couldn't just pick him up and take him back home. He had to stay there. Inside a container made of steel, painted blue. Sometime later, I'll have to write about my funeral experience and some of the strange thoughts I had.
Watching your parents who you remember as a child grow old, their hair thin and turn grey or white, their hands and face wrinkle. Struggling with unrelenting sickness. Accepting that they may not drive again. I never thought those days would come. But they did. And now, I have to grieve. Then pick myself up, dust myself off, and start all over again... Thank you Jerome Kern for the lyrics.
Now onto part two.
CSM
Last week, I experienced the first part of a two-part series of watching an era end. My father left for destinations unknown. I could go into my thoughts on the afterlife, but not now, maybe later. With his departure, I have now lost both of my parents. The two who brought me into the world, gave me love and support even when I may not have deserved it, watched me flourish, struggled with the parts of my life they didn't like. They had to accept I wasn't perfect, just like I had to accept they weren't either.
I've been told by several people how lucky I was to have great parents. I think it's only been in recent years that I have actually been able to say "Yes, I do" which now becomes "Yes, I did". I never had to tell them. They just knew.
It wasn't easy saying goodbye. It wasn't the first time, and it was this time either. It still seems surreal to me. The actual moment when he left, then to the funeral, and on to the cemetery where I had to leave him. I couldn't just pick him up and take him back home. He had to stay there. Inside a container made of steel, painted blue. Sometime later, I'll have to write about my funeral experience and some of the strange thoughts I had.
Watching your parents who you remember as a child grow old, their hair thin and turn grey or white, their hands and face wrinkle. Struggling with unrelenting sickness. Accepting that they may not drive again. I never thought those days would come. But they did. And now, I have to grieve. Then pick myself up, dust myself off, and start all over again... Thank you Jerome Kern for the lyrics.
Now onto part two.
CSM
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in reading your writings I feel a kinship. I have went thru your current agonies many times and wonder how I was able to pull myself thru the despair and still be a productive human being. I hope you continue to hone your perceptive writing skills. it does help to bring closure. gaylord,carolyn and I are the last of our generation as far as I am concerned and I am sad at being left alone.
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