Yesterday marked the tenth anniversary of my father's death. Ten years! Doesn't seem that long ago. He died of lung cancer which had quickly spread to various organs. He went fast. Too fast for me to even get down there to say goodbye. Though I had seen him a couple of months prior to, when he first started getting sick. I remember hugging him goodbye, having a sink feeling that it might have been my last. And it was.
My mom has handled his passing as best as one could expect for a couple that had been together nearly fifty years. I feel bad for her. She has my brother, thankfully, and she gets out with her friends to play bingo, mahjong and other parlor-type games. She loves games! But she's a bit of a shell of the former person she used to be.
I had stayed with her, in Florida, for two weeks after his death. Probably the hardest thing in my life was the moment I had to leave her, all alone. At that point my brother was living a couple of hours away, my sister had gone back to Massachusetts. There was no one there for her. I couldn't imagine how she felt, at that point, now having to be all alone, essentially for the rest of her life.
Anyway, don't mean to be a Debbie Downer.