New Phase of the Journey

Saturday was bright and sunny as we went to Mom and Dad’s apartment for the last time.  The charity has come and picked up the furniture.  Now, we filled up the cart with the last load of bits and pieces, I vacuumed the entire apartment while Mike washed down surfaces.  Once I was done, I walked back into their former bedroom and tears softly welled up.  They don’t come so suddenly in a rush anymore.  Now it’s a gentler flow.  We loaded up a cart, gave the poinsettia to one of Mom’s friends, and went downstairs to say goodbye to the friends they made over the past five years.  Everyone asks after Dad.  I tell them he’s doing the best he can under the circumstances.  We promise a visit when my sister-in-law comes back into town and then we’re off to empty the car and fill our house halfway to the ceiling with boxes.  

We drop off the keys and access cards the next day after church and after dinner go to visit Dad.  He’s in good spirits but very confused.  He’s still unclear about Mom, although now when we tell him she’s gone he’s not as surprised, nor as upset.  He realizes he’s heard that before and now wants to know the details of their will.  Then we skip to Mother again and for a few minutes we go around and around.  I pull out a photo album I made of the time a few years ago that he, Mike, and I went for a ride on a B-17.  This was the type of plane he was a gunnery sergeant for during World War II.  This brings back memories.  Both of the war and of that day.  The memories are a bit scrambled, but pleasant and gets the conversation off things that worry him.  But when we’re done, he’s back to being confused and worried.  To the point that he asks about Mom’s husband.  But when I point out that would be him, he throws back his head and laughs and says he’s glad I reminded him of that.

And so we’ve transitioned to a new phase of the journey.

---