Remembrances and Melancholy....
It was two months ago today that my Dad passed away. Strangely it seems like an eternity ago; and then at other times it seems that he's not gone at all.
When I go to my Mom's house I still have the feeling that I'll be seeing them both. I've noticed too that as we walk down the hall both my Mom and I still turn and look into the room where he lay resting for most of his last two weeks as if he should still be there. In the den his chair still remains vacant when we sit in that room, it was his chair, where he sat.
At my house I sometimes expect to see the Big Gold Dog, Tres, laying in his spot in the hall and at night when I hear the branches rustling I believe, or want to believe, that it's his paws hitting the wall like they used to when he was lying there dreaming, running in his sleep. Tres has been gone only four months, but his memory is still very much alive.
And it was not long before the deaths of my Dad and Tres that there were other lively voices here in the house. I miss them all and at times the quiet and sadness is almost overwhelming. But we are responsible for our own wellfare and happiness is not an end destination; it is the result of how we live our lives. So, I drift out of the melancholy and concentrate on those who remain that need my assistance.
It was two months ago today that my Dad passed away. Strangely it seems like an eternity ago; and then at other times it seems that he's not gone at all.
When I go to my Mom's house I still have the feeling that I'll be seeing them both. I've noticed too that as we walk down the hall both my Mom and I still turn and look into the room where he lay resting for most of his last two weeks as if he should still be there. In the den his chair still remains vacant when we sit in that room, it was his chair, where he sat.
At my house I sometimes expect to see the Big Gold Dog, Tres, laying in his spot in the hall and at night when I hear the branches rustling I believe, or want to believe, that it's his paws hitting the wall like they used to when he was lying there dreaming, running in his sleep. Tres has been gone only four months, but his memory is still very much alive.
And it was not long before the deaths of my Dad and Tres that there were other lively voices here in the house. I miss them all and at times the quiet and sadness is almost overwhelming. But we are responsible for our own wellfare and happiness is not an end destination; it is the result of how we live our lives. So, I drift out of the melancholy and concentrate on those who remain that need my assistance.
