November 2nd: All souls day

Today is All Souls Day. It's something that I've never been aware of, but the church that I attend in the Poconos is having a service today to commemorate the souls  of those we have lost and like that there is a day of remembrance for those that are no longer with us who we loved. I wish I could attend that prayer service but it's a work day so it's not possible. However I thought I would reflect today on some very important souls who influence my life and are no longer with us. 

 The first people who come to mind are of course my parents. My mom died first on July 9th, 2022. That shouldn't have happened. I always expected her to live longer than my father as he had more health issues. But she spent too much time taking care of him and not enough time taking care of herself. By the spring of 2022 it caught up to her. At the time I never imagined that her hospitalization would result in her death a month or so later. But it did. 

 

My mom was tough woman. She would stand by friends no matter what. But if you crossed her, then that was the whole other story. The most extraordinary thing I ever saw her do was call about a dozen friends the day before she died. She had finally accepted hospice care and wanted to speak to several people to tell them how much they meant to her. It was an extraordinary lucid day, and one that I hadn't seen in a long time. I found it hard that when I came back to the hospital the next day that she was unconscious and would die just a few hours later. But I will always be inspired by that last day and how she took the time to carefully speak to people. 

 My mom tended to be the nurturer and my dad was the worker. He worked up until the time when he had open heart surgery retired shortly after that. Although wouldn’t say he was a nurturer, he WAS the one you went to whenever you had to vomit. My mom dealt with blood, my dad with the remains of what came up out of your stomach. It may seem silly now, but it really was important that he was there and I always knew he would take care of me when I was sick... 

 

When he was younger he traveled a lot for work, however my dad was a dedicated family man. He kept a picture of his mother on his bureau and during her last years when she was in an elder care facility, he would visit her for an hour or so every single evening. She knew she could count on him to come by. He never let her down.

 As I’ve said my dad's last years were fraught with pain. He died on July 1st 2023. I still feel some guilt for not being there during his last week, but I know I did my best to keep him comfortable, just as he did when I was a little girl. 

 Then there was my brother. I am still a little angry/frustrated that he died so young. Maybe if he had taken better care of himself he wouldn't have had a pulmonary embolism. Or maybe not. My mother claims that he always said he wouldn't live to see 40 and he was right. How I wish he had been wrong. 

I regret that we were so close as kids but not as adults. We did so much together for much of our lives, but that faded away when we were both adults. Even though we live less than a mile apart, we rarely saw each other during the last year of his life. I'm angry at myself for that happened and I'm angry at him for letting it happen as well.

Still most of my memories are of him as a happy-go-lucky kid. He was always full of life and laughter. When you were around him you always were in for a good time.

 I try not to be too angry at him for dying just before my birthday. But as they say it is what it is and the day before my 46th birthday I gave a eulogy. It sucked. But I can't imagine if being any other way.

 My paternal grandmother was somewhat hard to get close to. She wasn't the cuddly type. But I'll never forget that for special occasions she would bake angel foods cake with a chocolate fudge frosting. Having an egg allergy, I never tasted her cake, however, she always made sure that there was a little bowl of the chocolate fudge frosting set aside just for me. It was one of the most delicious things I've ever tasted. It was probably some simple recipe, but today when I think of my grandmother that's what I think of. 

 My paternal grandmother was also the only grandparent I had that got to meet my husband. She adored him. She loved talking with him. So you know that she had great taste. 

 Then there were my maternal grandparents. My grandfather was full of stories of his youth growing up on a farm in Ohio. I love listening to them. I recorded some of them, but cassette tapes don't last very long and the sound quality has faded away.  I still have hope that maybe someday they can be restored and I can hear his voice again. 

 He developed Alzheimer's in the last year of his life or maybe it was just dementia. Does it really matter? He spent the last couple of years of his life in a nursing home. He didn't always remember who was who or what was what. That was dreadfully sad. I regret that I didn't go see him more, but very few high school students want to spend their time visiting a nursing home. I wasn’t an exception.

 I still have his yellow striped bathroom hanging in a closet. Sometimes I wear it.  It's got to be over 40 years old, but it still holds up and I don't think I will ever get rid of it. To me it is my grandfather. 

 

My grandmother lived longer and mostly independently. She was the woman you could turn to when you needed something. She was hugging grandma. She was the one who cooked and cleaned.  You knew she would take care of you. She was generous. I can still remember her loaning me $6 (I think that’s the amount) for a record album that I wanted. I paid it off a dollar a week. And when I was finally done paying her off. She gave me the money back. 

 I wish I could say that my grandmother died suddenly and peacefully, that's not the case. She had a stroke, something she had feared for many years, and lived bedridden and pretty much trapped within her own body for the next 3 years. I can't imagine what that was like. I don't want to imagine. But she was cared for and I hope she knew how much we all loved her even if she couldn't speak. 

 Finally, there are two uncles that I miss.  Although technically one was a great uncle, as he was maternal grandmother's younger brother. 

The other was my father's younger brother. 

Though not related at all, Great Uncle Harold and Uncle Jimmy both seemed to me to be adventurous.  They both traveled a lot.  Uncle Jimmy because he was in the army and Uncle Harold because he loved to travel.  (Which is why he eventually became a travel agent...there couldn't have been a more perfect job for him.)  They both always seemed larger than life to me and so full of fun.  I saw them both for the last time at my wedding.  Uncle Jimmy died far too young; Uncle Harold lived to a "ripe old age," although he never seemed very old, even when he was in his 90s.

 I miss all these people.  I remember them especially today as I am filled with gratitude that they were part of my life.