Beginning of the End

Yesterday, my 74th birthday, I am both happy and sad. Today is a wistful and thoughtful one. I am happy that I have survived yet another year in relatively good health and with my wits still about me; Sad because I don't have my parents with me to help celebrate. I always knew that this day would come, and I have, for years, secretly thanked my lucky stars as I watched my contemporaries lose their parents one by one. Now that it has finally arrived, my intellectual sympathy for their loss is now compounded with my profound personal grief. 

So even as I celebrate my birthday with my Indiana family, I am also thinking about my now greatly reduced Wayne family and Brandon Avenue and memories of the past celebrations. My parents were the glue that held together the entire East Coast family of cousins, aunts and uncles. We would be together every major holiday and my dad would cook the family dishes and a good time would be had by all. It's all gone now, just a memory and that's exactly the point.

As long as we remember, all is not lost. And while I may forget to close the door, or turn off the lights, or that final grocery item at the store, I remember those family times and hold them close to my heart because as long as we remember, all is not lost.

I send my gratitude for those who sent notes of sympathy and celebration.

Like Ships Passing in the Night.....

 Hey All. Was busy minding my own business, looking forward to a late Spring of camping in our new 17 foot Sun-lite ( the seasons in Indiana have made a weird shift this year), when I got an email from someone I didn't know. I don't make it a habit of opening unknown email  in the era of malignant spam, but it opened "Memorial Update". 

I was ready to hit the Trash button but finally decided to read it. First it informed me, and now you, of the passing of Peter T. Cole without much further detail. The email said that he used to live nearby in upstate NY and that the informant had learned of his passing from a mutual friend. I immediately flashed on that great picture of Peter in the yearbook, all sprawled out at his desk with an open book in front of him and an expression that spoke volumes about how much he cared about the content of that book. Linda and I will try to locate an obit which we'll post if we can find it.