Last night I picked up my dad and brought him home for dinner. I used to cringe every time I’d walk dad through my garage and into my house as the garage has many of the tools that used to be his. It’s pretty common for children to have enormous guilt over placing their parents in a nursing home especially when they’re still cognizant enough to know they’re loosing so much and can’t do anything to stop it. It doesn’t matter that it’s the right thing to do. It just hurts and you have to keep repeating the mantra “I love them and it’s for their own good.”

A motherless son celebrates mother’s day

One of the things about growing older is you start to lose that filter between your brain and your mouth. You no longer put the brakes on your true feelings. When you’re mad everyone is going to hear it. If something off color comes to mind, you’ll hear that too. The last few years of mom’s life were full of conversations that could make you cringe or laugh and sometimes both.

One year ago today my mom died. Rather than dwell on the sadness of her passing I want to celebrate her life. She had a great life with my dad. They were married just shy of 64 years and they raised a good family. She was funny and loving and I’ll always miss her.

If you would like to read more about her read my post Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child.

The following are two of my favorite poems

The day my son had his wisdom teeth out I stayed home with him (doctor’s orders) to make sure he didn’t enjoy the after effects of anesthesia and surgery too much. He collapsed on the couch and flipped channels in between spiting into a large plastic cup and changing the gauze pads that made him look a little like a hamster with a mouth packed full of seeds.

He kept asking me “Why? Why does it have to hurt so much dad?”

What could I say? “I don’t know, it’s just the way things are . . . What the hell are you watching anyway?”

Last Wednesday as I was getting ready for work, I noticed my cell phone’s red light was blinking indicating I had a message. When I opened up my phone it said I had 3 messages, not a good sign.

It was my son. When I called him back he sounded terrible. Worse than terrible really. There’s something about being a parent that enables you to detect the most subtle of differences in your child’s voice. This morning there was nothing subtle about it, he was in deep, deep pain.

For years I had plans to interview my parents. They both had lived through so much. Born before the depression, dustbowl era and wars. They traveled the world together and experienced a very full life. I wanted to get all of their memories down on video. Their experiences, their feelings, what they learned, etc. Mom was the only one who could identify most of the people in many of the old photos I have (no one wrote who it  was on the back of them). Alas time has slipped away and mom is gone and dad is slipping away. Fortunately I do have a good memory myself (when I’m not too stressed anyway) and have access to many stories of our extended families.

Seems like it was just the other day that I found myself in my parent’s house, choked up and misty eyed as I had to clean and organize their belongings getting it ready to sell. Childhood memories & emotions came flooding back as I came across a lifetime’s collection of possessions from around the world and across the last 150 years.

Well, in re-reading this post I find it’s not the most uplifting, so feel free to skip it. You won’t hurt my feelings. I usually can suck it up and at least try to be positive & encouraging but I’ve just been a little worn out lately. Overwhelmed too. Sometimes it’s a little difficult to keep a stiff upper lip you know?

It was one year ago this month that my mom died suddenly. She was laying down on their couch with her head in my dad’s lap. They were talking when she grew quiet and passed.

In honor of her life here’s a memorial video I made for her funeral followed by her eulogy. It does kind of go against my advice to not engage in sad activities like listening to, watching or reading sad, heart-breaking books, movies & shows, etc. but it’s okay to feel sad so long as we don’t get attached to it. Mom had a very good life and this video celebrates that.

When I visited with my father the other day. He was back in his room with the door closed. I knocked but he didn’t answer, so I slid the pocket door open (I love those things) and saw him sitting in a chair in the dark just staring in to space. I always wonder what, if anything, he’s thinking about when I find him like that. Is he going over his life or just zoning out?