It Takes Time

It’s been almost a month since the death of my mom in-law, and I know it will take time to get out of the habits I had made with her over the last two years. After all, after sixteen years I still think about picking up the phone and calling my mom on certain days. I find it hard to believe that twenty years have passed since my own father died, and yet it has.

I’m still thinking of heading over to mom’s place first thing in the morning to check on her and the last thing I would do in the evening before she would go to bed. I still find myself looking to see that her lights are off, sending the single that she had gone to bed.

I have reached the age where most of the kids I grew up with are now orphans or even worse, many of them never made it to see retirement. I will not complain about growing old or not being able to do the things I once did. I’m just happy that I once could do the things I did.

It certainly isn’t a burden to take care of an aging parent, it’s just a part of life and a privilege.  That care giving isn’t all physical care, but more important is the love and mental support one can give. There comes a time when one can not give the physical and 24/7 care that might be needed and as a child one needs to know this.

I now look across the patio to mom’s house and smile, remembering all the times I would walk through her door and was always greeted with a “Hi Honey.”  I hope that time never allows me to forget that.



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