Growing up in a life without Dad...

I'm sorry friends, that I've not been contributing to my AD site, or posting reviews to yours over recent weeks.  It's been a brutal couple of months.

First of all my sweet Grandma died on May 24th.  I flew to Indiana to be present at her funeral, and to try and help my Dad get through the pain of burying his mother.

Then Dad died on June 27th, from a 13 year long struggle with emphysema. We knew his time was limited as he was so weak and short of breath, but his doctor predicted on the day that Grandma died that we had about a year before we'd lose him too. A year...

Instead, we had 33 days. 

When Dad died, I had to fly home to Indiana to be with my Mom.  I'm an only child, so it was imperative that I pull it together for her...not an easy thing to do when every molecule of my body wanted to scream and cry and pull the covers over my head. 

She was a basket case when I arrived.  Lots of financial questions, funeral arrangements, yard work neglected because of Dad's hospitalization before his death. Before he died, Mom was continually at his side, willing her strength back into him.  It didn't work.

So for the first time in my life, she leaned into me and drew from my strength. I was the adult and she was the child.  I scrounged through Dad's desk drawers to find important paperwork, go through and balance the checkbooks, sort through the safe deposit box, prepare a monthly budget for Mom, cancel four life insurance policies and arrange for death benefits, meet with the financial advisor to determine what assets she now owned (she had no clue), pay for the funeral, sign the paperwork to have my father's body cremated. That single act was one of the saddest moments of my life.

A friend of mine told me that he didn't completely grow up until he lost one of his parents. After both had passed away, he said that he suddenly realized that he was a member of the 'next generation' which I assume means he now thinks he's a senior citizen. 

Gads, I don't think I'm ready for that group, yet.  However a couple of more months like the last few would make me a strong candidate for the Nut Farm.  I could grow old there, weaving baskets and drooling into my lap shawl.

To make matters even worse, Dad's sister Aunt Liz is not expected to live either.  She's pretty eaten up with cancer, and I'm her only direct descendant.  So I'm sure you can all figure out what's coming down the road. Another loss.  Another funeral. Can you believe this?  I can't.  A family friend told me that she thought that all three of them, Grandma, Dad, and Aunt Liz were holding on for each other.  When one died, they all gave up.

And to top off my return to Florida, we had a hurricane to contend with four days after I got back...Dennis.  Thankfully he didn't give our area in Tampa Bay a direct hit, but we certainly got alot of anxiety, wind, and rain as we were on the sloppy side of the storm...enough to remind us of what tropical systems are capable of.  No real damage thank God.  Just some debris, and a little excitement when a neighbor's tree decided to give up the ghost 3 seconds after he backed his van out of the driveway. What a cleanup headache that was!

Anyway my AD buddies, it's not that I don't love all of you, or want to read your work. I'm not antisocial either. It's just that I've been trying to keep my sanity in check as I go through one of those periods of life that we all hope will never come, but eventually does.

I've heard it said "That which does not kill us makes us stronger."

Well, I think I'm strong enough now, thank you very much.

I'm sure I'll be back as soon as I wean myself off of Xanax, and begin posting my stuff, posting reviews to your stuff, and glad for a more normal pace of life.   

Be well...be blessed.