Saying Goodbye– What I learned about life, from death…

“Love isn’t something we invented. It’s observable, powerful, it has to mean something… Love is the one thing we’re capable of perceiving that transcends dimensions of time and space.“  ( Interstellar, 2016)

You left us 365 days ago. 52 weeks. I learned a lot about myself in that small window of time. I learned a lot about my Mom, as well…

You saved all those awful 80’s clothes. The big shoulder pads, pastel colors. I am NOT sorry they did not come into fashion before you passed away.

You know I don’t want to say it, but I feel that I really must be honest here, Mom. You really couldn’t cook. I mean, you made a wonderful lasagna, and your sausage balls rocked many a world, but day-to-day–I am surprised we all all still alive to tell the tale. You came by it honestly though..Your mom could not cook worth a shit, either.

I am curiously strong.

I have a long list of things I wanted to tell you, that I never had the chance to tell you. “I love you” is not one of those. Now that sounds bad, but it isn’t. I said “I love you” in every conversation I had with my mom. The evening before the morning she died, I told her I loved her. She look at me and said “I know”. Who knew my Mom was a “Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back” fan.

( on that note, Greedo shot first)

You saved almost all of my god-awful drawings. I have no idea why. They were terrible. I mean, even for a 6th grader they were bad. I did not find my true artistic groove until High School. And you saved my teeth. What…the…HELL…

I used to have this thing where I  did not want to talk about you for fear that I would make people feel uncomfortable. I still think I have this thing, but it’s getting better. Instead of a twinge of pain, it’s now sort of a dull ache that never goes away. It’s okay though. I can laugh about things now. It is something you endure and you move on, but you never get over it. It becomes a part of you. It is a necessary thing that proves that you are still alive.

Why, oh, why did you like Liberace so much? Seriously? Liberace? It’s like saying , “Wow…I REALLY love Nickelback”. You never admit crap like that out loud. In public. With, like..PEOPLE...

Regardless of the number of years, life is short. Make sure that the life you are living is one well lived. Do not go to your twilight with a long list of shit you wish you could have completed, places you could have visited and people you should have called. Don’t be ridiculous with your life. You only have one. USE it.

There are 24 hours in a day. Take 5 minutes to tell people that you love them. That regret never, ever goes away.

Don’t take life for grated. Play hard. Laugh Hard. If you need to fart, let ‘er RIP!

Death of loved one has made me really strong, and I am resilient. Losing people to death makes you stronger for the times that you need to be available for the living. I think that is a fancy-schmancy way of saying that we all have purpose in this life. My purpose it to make my Dad laugh, and think of 1,000 and 1 ways to fix Brussels Sprouts.


…in progress…because I am cutting onions, and it’s getting teary

4 thoughts on “Saying Goodbye– What I learned about life, from death…

  1. Thank you for sharing these wonderful thoughts. While the passing of a loved one is such a difficult event, you were fortunate in that you were able to tell her one more time that you loved her, and she had acknowledged that. That is extremely precious.

  2. I can definitely vouch that you are strong. Over the last year, I have watched you lay the bricks you are standing on. The way you made yourself 200% available during your mom’s illness, and the way you lovingly tend to your dad now, inspire me beyond words. You are an amazing human, and your mom might not have known how to cook, but she surely knew how to raise an incredible woman.

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