Written by Karen D. Swim
I called my Dad yesterday and was treated to his usual jovial greeting. Yet, there was something there, a hint of wistfulness or was it sadness? After answering my usual questions about his day, he revealed that his dear friend had passed away. As he related the news, there was a catch in his throat that caused my heart to drop.
My dad had his 79th birthday last month. Many of his friends or “partners” as he calls them have passed away. This friend, Leon was one of the last. In recent years my Dad spent many days driving to nursing homes to visit his “partners” sharing old stories and kidding one another. Watching them, a little hunched over, some with canes nearby, the years fell away and they once again became young men ready to take on the world.
I have lost two dear friends and a husband and while painful the losses are different at this age of life. Death comes like an intruder, a thief in the night. At my Dad’s age, death becomes the inevitable and as your friends succcumb you are face to face with your own mortality.
With each loss, my Dad loses a piece of his history. There are few left who walked the journey with him, and shared the adventures. He is now the lone historian, keeping the memories alive by sharing them with his family.
My Dad is an upbeat sort and even in sadness is quick with a joke or smile. He misses his partners, but has maintained his own taste for living. He walks a little slower these days but unaided, and we have to speak a little louder over the phone, but he is in good health. He reminds me to cherish these days and the friends and family that surround me; to laugh, love and truly live.
We talk for awhile remembering Leon and sharing mundane details. There are moments of contemplative silence in between the chat and laughs. When we hang up it is not without a heartfelt “I love you,” and grins that can be heard in the melody of our good-byes.
I hug the phone to my heart as the call disconnects, giving thanks for my Dad and the time we have shared. While I cannot control the length of days, I can cherish my now, and I intend to do just that.
How do you make the most of your days? Please share your thoughts, remembrances or whatever is on your mind in the comments. I cherish your conversation and take joy in hearing from you.