My dad would have turned 65 today. That means he's been gone for... wow, almost ten years. Time really does fly.
I'm not sure what I believe in when it comes to where he is now (or if he's anywhere, for that mattter), but in my memory, he's coasting downhill on his old white mountain bike with his favorite baggy purple t-shirt flapping in the breeze. And he's laughing.
Tailwinds to you, Dad.
4 comments:
Nicely written
10 years? For some reason, I was thinking it had happened sometime before that...
FWIW, it's very close to 15 years since my mom passed away due to cancer. She was 62 and got to see her kids grow up and see a couple of grandchildren. Still, to work through the hard years of farming and raising kids, and not make it to retirement seems a bit cruel.
So, let's look back at the years we had with the departed, the fun we had, the rhubarb pies we shared, and share those memories with the loved ones who are still with us. The years do go by quickly, and it's important to stop and think about those who have loved us and done so much for us.
Steve K.
I agree with you anonymous - and I also agree with lowagriz that it's very nicely written. My mum died of cancer at Christmas (she was a very young 68)and I'm having a hard time getting my brain to think about the main bit of her life and the wonderful times because her last few weeks are so huge in my memory. I know it will come as part of the grieving process. They say that the hardest part of all is three months after. We'll see. But it's nice to hear you guys talking about such things.
Thanks for the kind words, everyone.
Karma, so sorry about your mum. Everyone's grieving process is different, and I wouldn't dream of trying to give advice. I will say, though, that the delayed aftermath was harder on me than the immediate sadness. I went into an extended daze where I was just sort of sleepwalking through my day (and not sleeping at night). Luckily, my wife pushed me to get counseling, which helped me plug back in. It took a while, but I can now enjoy the good memories without the sting.
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