Preparing for a migration.
It's harder for humans than birds.
I've been sorting & packing, organizing, cleaning & tossing.
A lot.
I decided to take 2 end tables that belonged to my parents to use in the bedroom.
When they died, no one wanted them.
I had no use for them, but I took them anyway.
As luck would have it, some of my parents lives were still tucked away in the drawers.
It wasn't anything 'valuable', just everyday 'stuff'.
Even though I knew 'the stuff' was in there, I've never had the heart to go through it.
I finally went through it & took a trip down Memory Lane.
I found lotsa eyeglasses, which I will donate to the Salvation Army.
Holding and examining these glasses was weirdly comforting.
When I close my eyes, I see them wearing these very glasses.
(I saved one pair of Moms and one of Dads...just because)
Most of the stuff was Dads...things he treasured.
I found his library card...dated 1961...over 50 years old.
The library was just down the street and he walked there almost daily after retiring.
Of course he had his library card...he loved to read & loved the library.
After all, it was full of information & that info was free.
Yep. My frugality is genetic.
Coupons for cab rides...long expired.
Many birthday cards that were sent to him...he was quietly sentimental.
Seeing these reminded me of the many times when his eyes would fill with tears when he spoke of days gone by, or people he loved, was proud of or touched by.
I loved his mushy side.
I found both Mom & Dads' pool badges from the Glen Rock pool...picture IDs...a treat!
His yearbook...with signatures. He was such a hunk!
A picture of daddy and his baby brother, my Uncle John, & a deck of cards from a trip to CA.
A VHS tape of his 80th birthday celebration, made by my cousin Jeanne.
He loved Jeanne..I'm pretty sure that feeling is mutual.
I can't wait to figure out how to watch it.
HIS POPE KEYCHAIN (which made me chuckle) & some prayer cards.
An address book in his beautiful, shaky old man handwriting.
(His handwriting means so much to me...Have I ever mentioned his handwritten birthday letters to me & my kids? I wonder if he knew how cherished those letters would be...a gift of his time...like a piece of his heart to hold in your hand. I bet he did...he was pretty smart that way.)
I also found 3 notebooks kept by his daily caregivers at the end of his life.
I tried to read some of these notes, but couldn't do it.
It was such a tragic time, I still struggle with his suffering.
Maybe someday, but not yet.
I was able to consolidate these precious things into a small drawer so I will have them forever.
Thinking about it, these are more valuable to me than any fancy dishes or jewels.
These are things they used in their lives, not just on special occasions.
Holding these things reminds me of their ordinary, everyday existence...just how I want to remember them.
Those ordinary, everyday, extraordinary people...my first people.
The 29th is the 7th anniversary of losing my dad.
Everyday, he smiles at me from a photo on my windowsill.
Everyday, I try to remember to thank him.
There are no words to express my gratitude for the love & support he gave or the wisdom he shared.
Much of this wisdom I have appreciated posthumously.
This is my only regret...not telling him every single day what a Rockstar Dad he was to me.
Part of his charm was that he wouldn't mind the oversight.
I DO mind, however.
Cause he deserved to hear it.
No, he wasn't perfect...& didn't pretend to be.
I can't recall ever hearing an unkind, gossipy or malicious word come from his mouth.
This was, perhaps, the quality I admired most in him.
He was a mishmash of everything...a fantastic specimen of humanity.
How blessed I was to be 'his Magoo.'
He's the best man I have ever known, a benevolent, honest gem of a guy.
I love you, Daddy.
And you, too, Mom.
