I’m never more aware that both my parents are dead than I am around the holiday season. While many families have the dilemma of figuring out which grandparent to take the kids to visit on which holiday, there is no such problem here.
My father died in 1981 and had long since left my life prior to his death. That was all pretty much covered in this post. My mom died back in 2005. I covered that in this post.
Which, I suppose, is why I have a hard time with people who have mental breakdowns when a grandmother or grandfather dies. I just have a hard time seeing the grief past a certain point. Some grief I get. But some people really just go on for months and months.
That last paragraph sounds meaner than it is. But it’s true. I want to feel for you and what you’re going through. But then I want to shake you and say ‘come on, time to move it along’. So, I just go the silent route. Because it works. Because you’ve got to figure it out on your schedule.
And remember, both my mom and dad are dead.
The other time I realize I need my parents is when I’m in trouble. Sometimes, your mom or dad can help you with a loan or some sage advice that helps you push through a troubling time. Not so much for me. Not without a candle and a psychic anyway.
Take, for example, two weeks ago. I was driving home from work, balling like a little girl. (Yes, I said it. It was dark out and good news, folks, no one can see you crying in your car at night. W00t!) I sure could have used a parent right about then. And maybe a diaper and a pacifier as well, but that’s besides the point.
The point is that both my parents are dead.
Happy holidays, everybody!