My parents were married for almost seventy years.
My mother died on the day after Thanksgiving, soon after I visited her. She'd had Alzheimers for some time, and I felt like I'd already said goodbye. I sang her a song my dad used to sing to her, but I don't think she heard it. When my dad sang to her, she used to blush and smile.
I was on a train, on the way to visit my dad for Christmas, when I got an email saying my dad had experienced a significant stroke. When I got there, he could barely speak. I told my dad I loved him, and he said he loved me. I kept saying it, and he kept saying it, as long as he could. I told him we all loved him.
I sat with my dad for three days, and was with him when he died, a little after 7 pm, on the day after Christmas.
I miss my dad's voice, his sparkling eyes, and his hugs.
Obituary
George's and my bright and brave foster daughters (ages 6 and 7) went home to their mom last week, after a year with us. It is good that their family is back together again, but it is very quiet around here. The girls went home with heads full of my mom's lullabies, and my dad's sea chanties and cowboy songs.
