Goodbye Dad . . .

Today is Mother's Day . . .  I know for many of you,  this day can be a difficult one.   It is for me as well.  My mom has been gone for 27 years and I still miss her the most on Mother's Day.  It is just a reminder that she is no longer with us.  I try to find a way to celebrate that honors her . . . honoring is a nice thing to do.  We can also honor ourselves.  Remember that!

The year started out as usual for me, with hopes of bringing to bloom new ideas and goals.  Life does have a way of throwing you a nasty Nolan Ryan curveball when you least expect it, however.  It did for me on January 27th when my husband and I found my father on the bathroom floor.  He had fallen while putting on his clothes.  This was his second fall in five days.

The next two months were followed up with hospitals and doctor appointments, surgery and more doctor appointments and an eventual stay at a nursing and rehabilitation facility.  Dad despised every minute of it.  He wanted to go home.  At 92, he was out of his comfort zone.  I felt very torn as to what I knew he needed and what his wishes were.  I had to keep him safe.  Living an hour away from me was no longer an option.  My sister and I worked on a plan -- oh it was a grand one -- and he would be so happy.  Truth was, dad was not happy.  He continued to decline and at the end of March we made the difficult decision, at his request, to stop all medical intervention.  He passed away on March 29th, a week shy of his 93rd birthday.  Signing those forms as his power of attorney was not easy.  I had to remember he entrusted that task to me over 20 years ago and it was time I respected what I knew he wanted.  His daily needs were no longer a concern.  He was at peace.  He was reunited back with my mom.  That was a great comfort.

It is difficult packing up a life.  A life well lived.  A man well loved.  A son.  A brother.  A husband. A father.  An uncle.  A grandfather.  A great grandfather.  A friend.  He had many and had outlived most of them.   Having both of your parents gone is a strange feeling . . . almost a disconnect.  When mom died, I still had dad.  Now dad is gone.  These wonderful parents who raised me and provided for my every need, who taught me difficult lessons, who loved me -- are gone.  It hits me at strange times, different moments and my heart feels heavy.

It is now time, however,  to move forward and get back to those lofty goals I had in the beginning of January.  That is what they would want me to do.  Keep looking ahead.  Follow your heart, your dreams,  if you make $5.00, save three and spend two; go slow.

I will, mom and dad, I will  . . .