Kiss Your Cat
Yesterday was a sad day for me. A close friend of mine lost their father. Since my own father passed away very recently, this death sparked fresh feelings of loss enveloping me in waves. There were a lot of similarities between his father and mine - both were stubbornly proud men, battling terminal illnesses with a determined sense that they were capable of cheating the odds. Yet as days passed and turned into years, the endless struggles with the day to day reality of their situations changed each of them, a little at a time. Death furrowed it's lines, laying claim in grooves and trenches, etching its presence across their faces and their souls, where no wrinkles had been. I was not there the night my father died, so I did not see this with my own two eyes. But those that did observed a blessing that will stay with me forever...Those deep valleys marching across my father had gone, smoothed and filled with peace, at last.
I knit through the death of my father. 3:00 a.m. frequently found me tearful, hunched over double pointed needles wishing I could embrace him one last time. But for some strange reason I couldn't knit yesterday - Tom's death is affecting me in ways I don't fully understand. I know I feel older, introspective, and more conflicted by truth today. Is having lived a good life, enough? I don't know. What I am sure of, is that all life plays out moment by moment, and that you can't take for granted that you'll get another one. So, today, right now, make this very tiny moment huge - STOP, and hug and kiss your spouse, your partner, your family, and your friends...and don't forget your cat.
posted by tocspaw @ 11:19 AM
3 comments
3 Comments:
consider your self a very lucky woman. you knew death was creeping ever near, it jumped from a dark desert night and ripped my heart out. It stole my mother at a young age of only 56. she had a massive heart attack deep on the desert floor. I slept peaceful unaware that with dawn came destruction. I still can't take the song I will remember you! please accept my sypathy to both you and your freind. peggy
Peggy - I am very thankful that I was able to say goodbye to my father, even if it was just in that every time we got together or spoke I treated it as though I might not get another opportunity and made sure he knew that I loved him. I'm sorry that your mother was taken from you so suddenly - losing a parent strands us without anchors we didn't know were holding us down. Although we will always miss them, I trust that time will heal us both.
I can relate so much to your blog. I lost my Dad in the late 80's. I was with him when he passed (he tried to save 2 boys from drowning and I am the only witness who lived). I think this way about grief...the pain is still there but throughout the years what changes is how you look at it. I think it was C.S. Lewis who called grief a never ending valley. Just when you think you crossed the bend into green pastures you turn the corner and you are right back at the beginning of your journey.
Talking about and accepting the fact that you still feel sad on occasation just shows that you loved.
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