you know, it’s really hard to lose your parents.
one parent, and the earth totally shifts.
both, and the world you’ve known since birth no longer exists.
i was fortunate that i had my best-friend-mom through most of my 30s. but i still felt forever robbed that i’d have to spend the rest of my life without her. and i find it so sad that she didn’t get to see my sons grow up, or know her grandsons as adults.
then 17 years later, in my mid-50s, i lost my dad too. the dad i’d become closer-and-closer-to while living just a few blocks from each other for three years. the dad who never failed to crack me up, even when i was feeling my worst.
suddenly i was an old-lady orphan.
i’ve tried to imagine what it must feel like for a kid to live without that foundation, that strong parental support. through either early death or abandonment, maybe never once having met who brought you into the world.
and i can’t. not really. because it’s such a polar-opposite experience from my own. i was so fortunate. i truly had the best. and i miss them every single day.
i yearn to hear their voices again. their laughter. to feel their presence.
the winters of my grief sneak up on me without warning. even 7 (or 24) years later. even in summer. a song, a scene, even a certain sensation. maybe just a glance that seems familiar.
or waving goodbye until the car has completely turned the corner of cathryn avenue, and is totally out of sight.
i miss them.
i miss them.
i miss them.
but what a lucky lucky girl i was.
