I've been thinking about all of them a lot lately.
About our childhoods. Our differences. Our similarities.
What we've all been through this past year, and how differently we've all coped.
This week my sister Jean told me she read my blog.
I was surprised because she doesn't normally read it.
She said she cried and that we're feeling many of the same things...
We're not much for talking, my family and I, well, not about feelings and stuff.
I've pulled away somewhat from them. Which I know isn't right, but it's hard. Anything family related brings up feelings of loss and sadness and memories of my mom.
When were all together, there's still someone missing.
There's a huge void.
A few weeks ago I went home for a luncheon where my mom was being honored. It was a big deal. My sisters, and sisters in law were there. It was a fundraiser for something my mom would have been so incredibly proud to be a part of. Because that's what she was all about. Helping others. Touching lives.
Afterwards I went to my dad's house. - Even writing that it feels weird. I always used to say my mom's house, and my dad's cottage...
I stopped because it had been a while since I saw my dad. I check on him through my sisters, who are there.
One of them is always there, checking on him, doing laundry, paying bills, grocery shopping, etc. etc. etc ....My sister Karin actually just drove from Wisconsin to Florida this week with my dad to keep him company and get him settled. If that doesn't scream good daughter, I don't know what does.
When I stopped after the luncheon though, he wasn't home.
The house was so quiet.
So I laid in their bed.
in her spot. basically untouched in the past three months.
I thought back to those last days. in that bed.
I tried to smell her smell...but it's fading.
As I laid in their bed, I was struck by the memory of a conversation I overheard my dad having with a woman from their church who came to visit one of those last days. My dad, who is typically very NOT emotional about things, broke down a bit, when he was talking about what it meant to have all of us kids there. What it meant to my mom. I remember him saying, "this is what it's all about...I don't know how people can get through times like these without their children." Then he chuckled and said something like," now I know why she wanted so many!"
We are all lucky. to have each other.