Sittiing in the gate area at Tucson airport. Still a while till boarding and I got to do something-might as well blog.
First, to all who sent their kind wishes-Thank You. I do appreciate it.
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I keep feeling like I should be crying. Except the truth is- I just cannot. Which makes me feel more guilty than you will ever know. I jsut don’t know how I feel-or even how I am supposed to. Even though my sister had warned me that we all needed to gird our selves up for this-now that it is actually here-it is still a something of a shock. Talking with my father is especially hard. There is nothing I can say to him. I am truly sorry and he knows it-but how do you console the man? He’s the one I’m really worried about now-for the last few years, looking out for my Mom had been his “career” of sorts. Now I’m worried he will fall apart himself. He’s in much better shape health wise than my mother-but spiritually he’s tapped out.
Yet I still cannot cry. I thought I might when I heard the news at first-then it just settled down into sort of a resigned acceptance of that which I have dreaded for years, was finally upon me. I feel sad, but I also feel as if things are better in a perverted sort of way. I hated seeing my mother in the nursing home-and my sister says she would never have wanted that. So perhaps she waited until she saw us all, then moved on. Probably a flight of fancy, but still I want to believe it.
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My Mom got gypped by us kids. None of us turned out to be the famous, history making, people she wanted us to be. I know she was proud of my Navy career-I never had the heart to tell her that as successful careers go-my was deeply slotted among the ranks of the mediocrity. Still it made her proud-she always thought I was going to be an admiral. Just the opposite, each of us screwed up our individual lives in various ways. My parents are really the only anchor my family has. Now one of the points is chipped off. What happens to the rest of the anchor-and the ship it holds in place?
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I hope I get to come back here to Tucson, despite the heat it was different than I expected it to be. I had really wanted to get up to Davis Monthan AFB and see the “boneyard”. I had actually arranged my schedule so I could go do that tomorrow morning before going to the airport. If one loves airplanes its a must see-to pay respects. Plus it was nice to see desert mountains again. When I was living in Nevada-one of the highlights of my morning each day was to walk out of my house and look up at the mountains off in the distance. Plus flying over this type of country was simply glorious. Go ask Lex, I’m sure he would agree with me.
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While I was packing up my stuff, the TV showed the latest Jib-Jab video. Its probably innappropriate to say so, but I don’t care what your politics are-its funny. Only smile I’ve had in a couple of days.
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I got the nicest e-mail, clear out of the blue from my daughter. I’ve not heard from her in a while. It was a sweet note, if somewhat strained, and I was thankful for it. She said she wants to maybe come to the funeral. I don’t think she is going to be able to make it, but I told her if she chose to, I would pay for it. However it was entirely her choice. Said the same to my son, who I have talked to several times today. He’s got too many demands on his time now to come-but he did give a warm welcome to my sister last month when she visited.
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Now it will be time for the recriminations to begin. How I should have been able to visit more often. How I should have subverted my own desires and lived closer to my parents. How I should have been back in North Carolina last month-before she went into the hospital, new job or not. I think though that deep down, my Mom knew I was happy in Asia, but she did not understand why. I wish I had been able to share some of that with both Mom and Dad. Now its too late.
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Time to board the plane. Useless prose I know-but I felt better having something to do to occupy the time. Thank you for listening.
Regarding the recriminations – Skippy, we all do that, beat ourselves up for things we did or didn’t do that it’s too late to remedy. Although I’m sure she’d have loved for you to live closer, and would have been delighted to see you more often, I think most of all, mothers want their children to be as happy as they can be, doing whatever they do best.
Will keep you all in my prayers.
Skippy-san,
My deepest condolences.
I want you to know that I will one day probably feel some mixed feelings although I hope that day remains far in the future. I think many of us wandering souls are a trial to their parents but I agree with MissBirdlegs; in the end, parents want their children to be happy and fulfilled. I feel that way about mine and I’m pretty sure you feel that way about yours.
I think you’re right though. I think your mother knew you were happy and didn’t and wouldn’t begrudge you your happiness even if it made you an infrequent visitor. Everybody in my family but me now has a Mac Pro something or other and have engaged my parents, particularly my mother in SKYPE. She loves it and whenever they’re on-line they can communicate with video. If you think something along these lines might serve to keep your father ‘engaged’ you might consider it and include your kids and sister in the ‘network’ because you’re right to be concerned about your father.
Skippy-san,
I’m really sorry for your loss. My mother means the world to me, so I can’t even fathom how it feels. It’s time likes these that words are utterly lost on me.
“You can shed tears that she is gone,
or you can smile because she has lived.
You can close your eyes and pray that she’ll come back,
or you can open your eyes and see all she’s left.
Your heart can be empty because you can’t see her,
or you can be full of the love you shared.
You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday,
or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.
You can remember her only that she is gone,
or you can cherish her memory and let it live on.
You can cry and close your mind,
be empty and turn your back.
Or you can do what she’d want:
smile, open your eyes, love and go on.”
— David Harkins
Skippy,
my deepest condoleances to you and your family during these trying times. all will be in my prayers tonight.
God Bless
Skippy..
Sorry for your loss. Our prayers and thoughts are with you at this time..
I feel sad, but I also feel as if things are better in a perverted sort of way. I hated seeing my mother in the nursing home-and my sister says she would never have wanted that.
Skippy, there is nothing perverted in that thought. There should be no shame and regret that you find it a relief that she no longer suffers. Rather it is almost noble.
My condolences for your loss and your own suffering. I pray you soon find peace and joy in memories of her.
Captain,
As with everyone else, sorry for your loss and I wish I were in a better position to help.
My first piece of advice for you, your father and the rest of your family is, don’t make any big decisions for a while. As Benjamin Franklin noted about troubling times, “When passion rules, she never rules wisely.”
Second, don’t be so hard on yourself. Whether you made admiral or not, if you look at the odds you have been extraordinarily successful. In a system where 19 of 20 applications for a commissioning program get rejected and 19 of 20 ensigns will never make O6, you can count that as pretty darn successful. Like the rest of us, you’re cursed with the (usually) laudable habit of looking back and wondering how you could have done better. Take stock of the lessons, but don’t let the “if onlys” dominate your life.
Finally, my advice for helping with your father is let him take some time to grieve, but then get him to think about what he could accomplish with what remains of his life. If you look at the survival patterns for men who have lost a spouse, the men that live longest are those that feel they’ve got a purpose to continue living. It could be helping kids with math or volunteering with a community service organization or just making sure the flower beds and lawn at church are kept up.
The Lord says, “Because he is devoted to me, I will deliver him;
I will protect him because he is loyal to me.
When he calls out to me, I will answer him.
I will be with him when he is in trouble;
I will rescue him and bring him honor.
I will satisfy him with long life, and will let him see my salvation.
Psalm 91:14-16
Hang in there….
Skippy-san: there is no user’s manual for grief. It’s an individual experience; who says you are supposed to be crying or not? No one can dictate how you feel – except you. Others here have said it and I agree – the only thing that likely would have mattered to your mom is that you were happy. If anyone else in the family believes you should have done something different with your life – is wrong. It’s your life to experience and live. If your mom knew you were happy – tha’s all that counts.
I agree with FuzzyBear: being relieved for the end of your mother’s suffering is a courageous and unselfish sentiment. Rather than beating yourself up about that, recognize that in it, you acknowledge that your mother’s safety and well-being were the first thing you thought about – not your own.
My dad died at the age of 63 – there was so much more that I would have loved him to experience with me and my family; he went far too early. But losing someone of your mom’s age is equally difficult in that it’s harder to say good bye to someone you’ve had around as long as 90 years.
Your grief – is yours. Don’t judge yourself too harshly. Grief is a bad place from which to examine your response to it.
You have described all the feelings and emotions I felt when my mother died in 2001.
No matter how much one knows the inevitable is close the reality hits harder than expected.
I firmly believe she must have held on for your visit before letting go.
I’m sure she was proud of you and your siblings. You have done good.
Thinking about you.
Skipper,
I don’t have the words to express the pain I share with you and your family.
And because I can’t do any better, what every one else above said.
Let me know if you or your family need anything.
Semper fi
OAM
Skippy-san,
God be with you, and while I can’t pretend to add much in the way of support from those commenting above, I do want to point out that you were here in the States when you needed to be.
That counts.