<\/p>\n
Both of my parents died six months ago. It was April.\u00a0 <\/span>My mom from cancer that she\u2019d been battling for a couple of years. My father from a stroke that took him in 5 days.\u00a0 <\/span>He went first.\u00a0 <\/span>Twenty\u2014or was is 22\u2014days before his wife of 46 years.\u00a0 <\/span>They were young by today\u2019s standards.\u00a0 <\/span>Sixty-five and Sixty-seven.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n I\u2019ve cried a few times.\u00a0 <\/span>Quickly.\u00a0 <\/span>Quietly.\u00a0 <\/span>Willing but not quite able to muster the turning-the-corner-into-anger sort of tears that would signal my official descent into the widely accepted stages of grief.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n I\u2019ve purposely not spent too much time reacquainting myself with the stages of grief.\u00a0 <\/span>Rather than stack the deck against myself by the power of suggestion, I figured I\u2019d allow the emotions and memories to gather together like raindrops on windowpane, linking together slowly, one by one, until their combined weight was enough to draw them downward.<\/p>\n Then, earlier this week, I started to see my parents everywhere.\u00a0 <\/span>\u201cDoesn\u2019t Sarah Palin look a little bit like my mother when she was younger?\u201d I asked my husband.\u00a0 <\/span>He did his best to mask the not-really tone in his voice \u201cWell\u2026maybe a little.\u201d<\/p>\n Drip.<\/p>\n Walking down the street toward my favorite writing caf\u00e9, I saw a man in the distance that I could swear was my dad.\u00a0 <\/span>He wore a baseball cap over his blonde-gray hair and had his hands in the pockets of a Members Only-style baseball jacket.\u00a0 <\/span>There was something in his slightly curved posture and sporty white sneakers that brought him home for a moment. But only for a moment.<\/p>\n Drip.<\/p>\n When I found myself in a state of unsettled sensory-overload last night, I figured I was just tired.\u00a0 <\/span>I\u2019ve been staying up too late and I teach early on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so I figured I just needed a good night\u2019s sleep.<\/p>\n Drip.<\/p>\n Then I started to snap at my husband and the drummer for our band because they were having trouble nailing a rhythm.<\/p>\n Drip.<\/p>\n And today I find myself wearing this kind of free-floating anger-at-everything-and-nothing-at-once like a heavy, scratchy and damp wool blanket.\u00a0 <\/span>I am not fighting it.\u00a0 <\/span>I am confident that this anger will weave its way toward acceptance in time.\u00a0 <\/span>All I can do is pray for strength and do my best to be loving toward the people while I make my way through what I know is a painful but healthy process of gathering them close so I can let them go.\u00a0 <\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n Whoosh\u2026 \u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Both of my parents died six months ago. It was April.\u00a0 My mom from cancer that she\u2019d been battling for a couple of years. My father from a stroke that took him in 5 days.\u00a0 He went first.\u00a0 Twenty\u2014or was is 22\u2014days before his wife of 46 years.\u00a0 They were young by today\u2019s standards.\u00a0 Sixty-five…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":181,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-40","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-living"],"yoast_head":"\n