In my memory,
the thread begins to reveal itself.
Ahead are endless, unplanned days.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
“We have to have a plan,” I told everyone.
But where was my plan?
If I could see ahead, just a little,
maybe I could unravel the thread.
Walking into our spare bedroom this morning,
the view turned from dark
to sunshine.
A scene exploded in my memory.
I could see my father lying on the bed we borrowed from Hospice.
We wanted his last days
to be spent with a view of our peaceful world;
the trees,
the horses in the pasture.
I hope he loved the quiet scenes before him.
“The Lord is my Shepherd…
He makes me to lie down in green pastures.
He restores my soul”.
I hope my Dad’s soul was restored.
He knew what he was facing.
He wouldn’t talk to us about it.
That was his way of dealing
with the impending transition.
(A visiting minister later revealed that Dad had asked him what heaven was like. I think we all may have that question in our hearts.)
We visited with Dad as often as we could,
as did many friends
in those last few days.
We could only face the situation
by continuing our daily routines.
Dad did his best
to honor our game.
He didn’t retire
until the age of sixty-nine.
It seemed like a grand old age to me, in those years,
but now it seems rather young.
He always had a plan,
a routine,
an interest, and a goal.
He was disciplined,
determined,
loving and reliable,
committed to his family.
What about me?
I have many questions;
not many answers.
I want my life to count for something.
Have I stopped counting?
What happens in a single parent family
when the parental balance
does not exist?
What happens to the marriage,
with no plans for commitment?
The last two generations have given us a preview of a very different society.
Has the media become the parent?
Is the media making our moral judgments?
“Everyone is doing it, and I want to do it too.”
Blame for bad outcomes can always be affixed to someone,
somewhere,
somehow.
By what moral standards does this new generation make its’ decisions?
There is a new intensity in my nightly prayers.
He is much closer.
My time to see Him face to face
is much nearer than before.
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https://www.thatremindsme.chat (Memories & Observations)
Photography By Mary Anne Whitchurch Tuck
Memories, Friends, and Observations 