Sunday, May 20, 2001

Dear Kate,

Annie's dad died on Thursday (May 17). He was 76--cancer.

He knew he was dying. I'd talked to him on the phone just one week earlier. "Hi dear, how are you?" he asked me. I actually responded, without thinking, with perhaps a natural answer: "I'm doing good. How are you?"

Duh!

I said that to him once before a couple months ago, and back then, he told me, albeit in a particularly cheery manner: "Don't ask me that question." This time, though, he just lied and said he was doing good. That's when I felt like an idiot. The rest of our conversation was the usual: He was full of concern for me, asked me about my love life and wanted to know when I was coming to visit again.

It was the last time I got to talk to him.

He didn't seem to endure a lot of pain for a long period of time. He had bad days and even some very good days. It was just a few weeks ago when he seemed to take a turn for the inevitable worst.

I am glad he didn't suffer for very long. Poor Annie, though...she'd been going through hell, it seemed. I can't imagine how hard it must be to watch someone die--to help them die, even. It's got to be the most loving thing you can do, really...to help anyone go like that.

When he finally passed on, I guess I thought there could be some relief in knowing he is no longer suffering.

Another friend, Elise, who also knows Annie, told her upon hearing the news, "His suffering has ended. Now yours begins."

My first thought was: "God, what an awful thing to say," as if Annie needed some kind of reminder to grieve.

I, on the other hand, really didn't know what to say, other than I'm sorry, other than to remember him fondly, other than to help change the subject when that's what Annie wanted me to do. I've hated not knowing what to say, because I know that whenever it comes to going through anything, the best people to talk to seem to be the ones who've been through it. I don't know what to say because I've never been there before to know that kind of suffering: My parents are still alive! And that's when I realized that what Elise was offering was understanding. What she was really saying was that she understands, because she knows.

Elise lost her mom when she was 25. She honors her mother's life in a way I can't describe, but she knows the type of loss Annie's experiencing. I don't. I can think I know and understand, but I don't--not really. Elise later related to me how her friends would say, when her mom died, "I know how you feel." ("No, you don't.") "I lost my grandma. It's the same thing." ("No, it's not.") "You'll be all right." ("No, I won't be. At least not for a very long time.")

I thanked Elise for giving me some perspective. I don't know what to say because I can't possibly know what to say! And I don't know how lucky I am to not know from experience right now.

My friend Doug was 25, too, when his mom died. A double whammy: His dad died almost a year before that. Doug seems to be the first person I'll turn to when I don't know what to say to someone who has lost a parent, because if anyone knows that kind of loss, it's him!

I should be much more grateful, and I plan on acting much more appreciative of my parents while I have them with me. Joe and I are both fortunate to have our parents in good health. I shouldn't take them for granted as much as I probably do. I know I often say, "I can only take my parents in small doses." Well, I suspect that I'll miss those doses some day. If I just sit and focus for a little while about how much I'll miss never having another moment with either of my parents on this earth ever again, perhaps then I can learn to honor their lives now, while they are still very much with me.

Quote Of The Day:

"The pain we feel / When someone leaves our life / Is in direct proportion / To the joy they bring / While a part of our life." --Javan

Background Music:

"I Love You"
--Sarah McLachlan

Today's High:

I'm going to my god daughter's 2nd birthday party later today...

Today's Low:

Joe had to go to work.

Top Five Things
I love most about my parents:

1) My mom never lets me leave the house without something she's given me. It might be my mail. It might be something she got at Costco or picked up at a garage sale. It might be an article in the paper or a comic strip she thought I'd enjoy. But she always gives me something.

2) My dad always told me--and continues to tell me--that I can do anything I put my mind to. He also never seems to forget to tell me he's proud of me.

3) My dad gives great hugs, has a good sense of humor and a good taste in music.

4) My mom never has anything bad to say about anyone--ever.

5) Both of my parents seem to let me be. They demand nothing of me as an adult. For all they've done for me, you'd think there'd be something...

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