Christmas

This holiday first became less joyous for me in 1975.

It was 10 months after the loss of my Grandfather, my Dad's Dad, and it didn't seem right to celebrate without him.

That feeling deepened in 1978 when my Father wasn't alive to bring home the Christmas tree.

Now, a mere two months since my Mother's death (Letting Go), I find myself going through the motions.

I grieve for them.

I grieve for thee.

I grieve for what was.

I grieve for what can never be.

I know time will ease the pain, but it will always hurt.

It is extremely difficult to watch someone die, but I draw comfort knowing that I was there at the end for both of my parents.

I wish everyone had the chance to say their final goodbyes and I wish that no one would die alone.

This is my Mother parasailing on the Big Island in 2009.
















She said she didn't want to come down.

I guess it was her practice flight with the Angels.

Here's to the loved ones lost, they made us who were are by being who they were.