Poppa's farewell

Those of us who share this space know what has happened and have shared our sadness in multiple phone calls and messages. I don't have anything to add or reveal at this moment, I just want a placeholder in our electronic lives which will mark this change and remind us all of our mutual connection and affection.

Poppa was nothing if not practical and aware of life's certainties. How many proclamations of "Martha, this will be good widow training" have we all heard to know he had an edge of reality to his humor. I am proud of the depth of feeling shared by my children across this generational divide. It is a mark of the wonderful affection he earned and shared with those most important to him. I suppose I knew this day would come. I somehow thought I would be better prepared. I mostly find myself distracted and at a loss, less saddened than just stunned. I find myself bustling about preparing to settle lots of details and transitions for Nana as if that will fill the space in the hole that comes from knowing my father is gone. Like all grief, it sneaks up on me, in the sight of his possesions, the setting of his daily life here at home, in the conversations that will now always be about him, not with him.

For now it's time for bed, the end of a day that started like no other, with the calm voice of my mother telling me that my father had slipped away in the night, the silencing of a voice that had spoken to me hours before. I miss him, we all miss him. I love you all, as did he.

Gordie