PERCOLATING MEMORY
Thursday, Nov. 21, 2019
Our planet shows its example of calm weather between storms and season — never offers reasons, just keeps going around and around, always keeping its distance from other planets and moons.
Everything is enormous and complicated — and still is if we walk down the center of the valley, but at least we’ll be calm for a while in the middle.
And as much as we like the notion of doing this while holding someone’s hand, we know we indeed do it alone.
Alone can be lonely if we let it, but more importantly, alone can be transparent.
Alone can be decisive.
I am often reminded, when I hear of people struggling to find consensus – of my times with my dad in his last few years, of his death, and of his after-death times. I did these roles of son, caregiver, and cleaner-upper – alone. These are some of the few benefits of being an only child. Not having to consult with or negotiate with anyone, not having to share with anyone, those times and work and decisions which I guard so vividly and profoundly. While I wish I’d had life with siblings, I didn’t – and getting to do those things alone, for and with my dad, are ones I’ll treasure. But another memory has been percolating lately regarding those times.
It is this.
I remember those times when he would lament, or whine, about how I didn’t have time for him, didn’t spend time with him, didn’t come by often enough just to visit with him – I really regret that lost time. And, I appreciate more acutely of late, how that will play out for me in my life. My daughters both live three hours away. Neither is likely to move closer, and only one is in touch with me – so my solution must come from somewhere else.
If I am to live long, I should consider doing it somewhere warmer – but mostly, I should do it closer to friendly people. More people, younger people. I need to make more younger friends.
This is good advice I’ve received and passed along to others, but now I realize I must do more of this myself …
