Fifty Three...

I am not really sure how to start this post.
It is a hard one for me you see.


Why, you might ask?

Well it's like this...


Six years ago on January 30th, I became an orphan.

Don't get me wrong, I was a Gramma myself by then, But let me tell you , the first year after Mom was gone, was a bit of a stickler for me, the waves of nostalgia, sadness and missing would hit suddenly, yet seemed to pass quickly. Replaced by happy memories.

It is true. I do still head for the phone to call her, if I have a question, have heard a good joke I think she would like, or need advice on something, or just to talk, only to get half way there and remember...

She does stop by to visit now and again, in a dream, or maybe while I am doing the dishes in a hurry, I can usually hear her voice in my head, 'Don't you think you should slow down a little and do them right? Don't forget to sweep the floors. It's all part of doing the dishes". Or it could be in a thought as I talk to the picture she had taken for her 80th Birthday, "Hi Momma", I can almost hear her say,'Hi Punkin.'


This year is different.
I wish more than ever that I could pick up the phone, or better yet, go have a good long visit with her.

You see I have a lot of questions I would ask her right now!


Because you see the thing that makes this year different than all the rest is this; I am her age...

1919~2005

 Forty years ago January 31, my Daddy passed away.

That first year was hard for me, I was thirteen. I missed him so much I would walk or ride my bike up to the cemetery every night after school and sit there...missing him, the first half year after he had to go...

He stops by now and again to visit, maybe in a dream, a song on the radio, in a thought. Sometimes I think I can feel him watching the night sky beside me like we used to do.
I still get hit with waves of nostalgia, missing and sadness. These feelings pass pretty quickly, replaced by the happy memories.

Its been long enough that I can't clearly remember the exact way he walked, or the sound of his voice, but I still talk to his picture, "Hi Daddy. You know...I miss you today. Smile if you miss me too, k?"
He does, every single time I ask him.
I know I would recognize everything about him in a heartbeat.

I stop by his photo more often these days and wish I could ask him some questions.

You see I have a lot of them I would ask him right now!

Because you see, the thing that makes this year different than all the rest is this; I am his age...

1919~1972

I miss them both terribly right now.

This year I will be fifty three.

My Daddy passed away when he was fifty three.

This year I will be out living a parent.

And it is sort of freaky.

My Mom became a widow at fifty three.

And it is sort of freaky.

So right now, I am being pulled around in a whirlpool of new emotions, mixed in liberally with nostalgia, missing and sadness, along with being lifted gently and sweetly by wonderful memories...

One thing that I have found a little curious is the fact that while they passed away so many years apart, it was only a day's difference.

And just as odd, both funeral's were held on February 3rd...

I hope they went dancing!