Yes, I know, I’ve been quiet lately. How unlike me. But then, these are strange times.
The economy is free falling down a seemingly bottomless hole.
I have two people in my life–one a good friend, the other a relative–both facing serious battles with cancer. I am powerless to help either of them.
The presidential campaign is getting uglier by the minute. I just want it to be over already. I’m sick of all the heated discussion, pitting friends against friends. It’s tiresome, and it certainly does nothing to lift up this country.
Today, I went to visit my mother. It’s been nearly two years since my father died, and I still can’t get used to going to their house and not seeing him there. His favorite rocking chair is falling apart, and it’s time to get rid of it. Just one more link to him, destined to disappear. When my mother called me the other day, I noticed that the name on the Caller ID was hers, not his. The phone company made her change it.
She still has the motorized scooter he used to get around in his final years. It was more fun than a wheelchair and carried less of a stigma, so he loved it. She can’t bear to part with that, either, but it’s starting to get run down, sitting idle. So, she asked my daughters to take it for a spin on the patio, to rev up the battery and keep it going. I watched as they drove the scooter in wide circles, laughing and smiling, enjoying the game. Every lap they did was a fresh reminder that my father isn’t here anymore.
But time marches on. As the two-year anniversary of his death approaches, I wonder how he would have reacted to the times we live in now. He was a deep thinker, my Dad, and I’m sure he would have had some first-rate ideas on how to solve this mess.
Instead, I’m left to my own devices in trying to figure it all out. It’s been nearly two years, and I still can’t get used to that.