Moving Forward

I want to thank all the people who sent emails, posted comments to this blog, called and sent cards and letters of condolence over the passing of my father last week. It has been a roller coaster ride of emotions these past few days and receiving so much support from so many people–many of whom I know only via our Internet exchanges–has been a source of inspiration.

The love of my extended family, many of whom traveled great distances to support my Mother, brothers and I, has done a great deal to sustain us. Were it not for the dire circumstances under which we were all brought together, it would have been a wonderful party. We had a great deal of fun in each other’s company, telling old stories and hanging out. I have some of the funniest people in my family and we laughed for hours. I also got to play cook for the whole army and enjoyed the experience.

My Dad was a remarkable man who led a full and active life of service to the community and seeing such a diverse turnout at the viewing Sunday and the funeral Monday morning was a testament to his involvement. Relationships formed more than a half century ago brought well-wishers who’d met him when they were young who were now seniors themselves.

Sadly, my uncle, Dad’s sole remaining sibling was unable to make it from Texas. Not financially capable of traveling on such short notice and beginning to show signs of dementia himself, he never fully comprehended the seriousness of my father’s illness, nor the fact that he had passed.

My mother is now a widow and for the first time in almost 60 years must face life without her husband by her side. She is a strong woman who always maintains a public composure, but I am her son, so I know firsthand that the stone face is a mask hiding emotions gingerly held just below the surface. The whole family is committed to making this transition as easy as possible for her.

In a strange way, not uncommon to families that have dealt with Alzheimer’s Disease, there is a sense of relief. My father’s ordeal is over and he is free from suffering a vastly diminished life. In turn, we are all free to try to resume our lives without the enormous emotional and physical demands of his daily care. It is not a perfect resolution because we no longer have him with us. I’m a heartbeat away from a good cry just writing this. But life must go on, and so we move forward, one day at a time.