February....again

Cast me gently
Into morning
For the night has been unkind

-from Answer by Sarah Mclachlan

Words can't describe how much my heart aches to look at this picture of my parents. Taken on a happy day not long removed as lifetimes go, they look so present, unaware of what is to come, so very… HERE. Mom in her signature stance, smiling that slightly uncomfortable “I am NOT photogenic” smile and Dad looking content just to have his arm around his sweetheart.

Unlike Mom, who raged against the dying of the light nearly four years ago, Dad was resigned to his end. When he slipped away, somehow appropriate in the early morning on November 19, my relief for him was a buffer to all I was losing. His brave, heart-wrenching struggle with loneliness and a cruel, fast cancer was over and I could imagine his jubilant reunion with Mom.

My brother has a good analogy for how it feels to lose both your parents. He says it doesn’t make any difference if you unknowingly step in front of an oncoming train or if you brazenly go stand on the tracks, watching it approach. When the train hits you, it feels the same.

I would add that your heart still beating with all the years of loving them and being loved by them shatters into a million pieces on impact. Blown into the cold wind are all your moments of being their daughter or son, rebel, challenge, worry, heartbreak, disappointment, pride and even…joy. The memories burn red hot with pain and you vow to gather them again when time has cooled them a bit.

Cliché or not, I am an orphan now. I am no one’s daughter anymore, just the oldest of four left- behind children. Yes, yes, this all might be part of the circle of life Elton, but for me, it stills feels like I was robbed in my sleep.

In days to come, I have good intentions to write again about happiness and the new little boy with my grandfather’s name. I hope to be inspired by more new places, interesting cultures and frighteningly original perspectives. I might even rave/ruminate a little bit about getting older.  

I also want to bear witness to the undeniable evidence of Higher Power in my life and the lives of those I love. And honor my calling to tell the stories of the family who came before...

But in this now, I just miss my parents. I ache to go home, but that place no longer exists. I long to hear Mom's low, slow drawl or Dad's comforting "Hi Ang"...absent voices filled with love I am starved for.

The silence without them is deafening. I have no choice but to wander on alone….