I Miss you, I really do

There are some anniversaries, you do not want to celebrate, mark or even remember in any way. Nature though has its own way of bringing things to mind. The seasons , the weather the plants and trees, all conspire to take you down a worm hole and travel backwards in time to an event you would rather forget.

I love the seasons, though, you can tell the rough date by the setting sun, by the plants that flower and whether there are leaves on the trees. Orange blossom came into full bloom on my Mom’s birthday, a lovely way of marking the wonderful day.

Since she died, too long ago now, I am cheered by the orange blossom every year, not saddened, I remember all the wonderful different years we celebrated together. Similarly I love the smell of pipe tobacco; I can just see my dear old Dad puffing away at his pipe. Loosing your parents is a huge event, it’s been along time now and I still think of them often, I feel their presence and that is comforting.

What I do not want to remember is the tragedies of their deaths, in my Mom’s case her battle with cancer and my Dad’s forlorn struggle with a broken heart after loosing her. I want to celebrate their lives and am thankful I was lucky to have such strong and fearless parents. Without wanting to, however this time of year takes me to the time I was called at work because my Dad hadn’t turned up at my sister’s for lunch. It’s the weather, the wind, the grey sky, the leaves starting to fall. I grab hold of my thoughts and try to concentrate on other things. Then I’m there in the car driving through the miserable weather to my old family home. My sister told me he’s not answering his phone, two hours late and absolutely unheard of.

I knew it was not good, but hoped perhaps he had been taken into hospital and no one had had the time to tell us yet, but I knew. I arrived his car was parked on the drive, curtains to his bedroom drawn. I rang the bell in a vein hope, but let myself in and called out. I refused to go straight upstairs; his chair was as he had left it the night before. His pipe was on the stand on the side table, his socks were laid on his footstool, he always had warm feet!  The calendar on the wall was written on, he recorded how he felt at the end of every day, “not too clever today” it read. I walked upstairs calling him, pleading him to answer, knowing he wouldn’t, there he was in bed, he had died in his sleep. I couldn’t go near him I didn’t want to confront the truth, but I could see he was gone, his spirit had left “his earthly body” as he called it.

For a long time I was angry with him, I didn’t realise this though, but I was. He had given up and left us. It was only when it struck me how I was feeling I could let it go, how ridiculous, he struggled on for years, tried his best to be sociable make new friends but he was lost without Mom and no matter what we, “children” did, he felt alone. His heart condition got worse and worse, finally it gave up. It’s a very sad chapter of our family life, one that doesn’t get easier to bear as the years go by. Because we couldn’t save either of them and we lost them. So it’s not an anniversary I want to remember but nature wont let me forget.

It reminds me that they both went before their time, I still grieve their passing and feel sad that they missed out on so much after working so hard. The grandchildren and great grandchildren a phase of life completely lost.

All you shared with us, all the love and guidance still help us all today and hopefully we pass this on. I love you both and still miss you everyday.

Alison x