Last night as I lit my father’s yahrzeit (memorial) candle, I felt a profound loneliness that I haven’t experienced before. Alex was watching me and asked if I was ‘OK’ and I took a few moments to respond saying, I wish that my parents could just return for a short time.
I now know what I would do differently. I would not be so fast to react (even internally) to their words. When my mother in her matter of fact way would say, “you’re letting your hair grow? You like it that way?” In the past, I would hear, “Why are you growing out your hair? You know you are so much prettier when your hair is short. Remember when Phyllis Allen cut it into a Pixie cut? You look so good when your hair is short.” (All I heard was your longer hair doesn’t make you look good at all!) Today, I would give anything to hear her talk to me about my hair and I would be ecstatic to banter with her about long versus short hair.
As for my dad, just to share a conversation with him today regarding the state of the world. OY VAY that would be colorful. My father would not be a happy camper that the American people wanted change so badly that they didn’t do their homework to know that the change they would get would not be what they were being promised. My dad only had a high school education, but he was educated beyond his schooling years. He was well read and he not only listened, but he also heard what others had to say. He didn’t always agree with what you had to say, and he could get argumentative, but he stated the facts he gathered. And when my dad was proven wrong, he apologized. Except on the golf course. If a tree, or sand trap, or waterhole got in his way, he was known to take it out on one of his golf clubs. It wasn’t until years later that the word and diagnosis of bi-polar made sense to all of us, although he was never officially diagnosed.
I know there is no two-way path from heaven to earth and if I want to have a conversation with my mom and dad I will have to do it from within my heart. The path to heaven is one way, and I am not ready to take that trip, just yet. I still have items on my bucket list to complete including being the positive influence for those I encounter here in life. I want to be the goodness that my parents planted in me and spread the sunshine with a sense of reality mixed in. I am not a Pollyanna, I know with sunshine rain follows and if not, life can fall into a depressive drought.
Depression is a common ailment today that many of us experience. I know I’ve been walking around in a mixed state of depression. Although I see the beauty in life and living, I feel the loss of my mother and the relationship we had, and we didn’t have. I realize I could have had so much more with my mom, but I chose not to for reasons at the time, and now I wish I could go back and change all that, but! I emphasize that but because if I were to go back and make changes what else would be different in my life? What would I have to give up and what would I have gained?
My friends Dennis and Blanche remind me that I received a gift spending my mother’s last 2 ½ months with her. I was able to take a journey with my mother by being right by her side. She guided me daily, and I allowed her to tell me what she wanted, what she needed and yet I was not afraid to tell her what I would or could do for her and what I could not. And yet, despite knowing how lucky I was that I spent this beautiful time with my DVasha, I am sad that I feel so alone. I go to call her as I drive to the grocery store. Something happens on the news, and I want to share it with her, but I can’t call, even if I did the phone number is no longer hers, so I would only be harassing someone else.
As I spent time scanning mom’s photos I wanted to ask her questions about this relative or that one. I wanted to share old time stories about her friends Enid, Rosie, and Blanche. I found some notes she left behind, and I want to clarify a few points, but I can’t, and it’s not fair!
What is fair is, mom is with my dad, together in eternity. As I look through these photos of my mom and dad you only see love from Harmon to Dorothy and Dorothy back to Harmon. They may have been an unusual couple mom standing about 5 feet tall, maybe 5 feet 1 inch at her tallest and my dad at 5 feet 11 inches. Most of their life they were like the characters Jack Sprat, tall and thin and my mom was like his wife short and stout. They were very much in love, but often known as the Bickersons, yapping at each other, but sealing it with a kiss and holding hands!
When I think of them, I am SAD, HAPPY, and GLAD to be able to share their journey and mine. My parents have provided me an opportunity to know love, and I found it with Rich, my forever.
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