Poignant, Terry. I love the photos of your mum and dad, and you and your dad, and your sister and your dad. I think you inherited your dad's sense of humor. What a wonderful thing to have shared with him and to have with you still.
Yes, really. I loved reading about your dad, and from what you described, he seems to have had a quick, dry, no-nonsense-y wit, and a kind heart, and was dashing and elegant (from the photos - very glamorous, dancing with your mum), dapper, too, wearing a tie while walking with you. I could be way off, but it's what I imagined after reading about him. I hope I didn't offend in any way.
Heartbreaking and moving, Terry. So well told. You painted a wonderful picture of your father and his personality. I'm sorry for your loss, but I'm happy you are able to share memories of him.
Ah, love. How generous of them both to try and protect the other, and I hope you won't mind me saying that it comes off as almost light hearted the way you tell it. Having lost both parents now, I know this had to be very hard on your whole family, something that weighed on all your future holidays, I'm sure.
So sorry that by standing strong for each other they denied themselves and you kids the opportunity to hold that sadness more openly. I guess that's what a lot of folks think they're supposed to do. I wish we could all talk more openly about death and dying. As they say, "Nobody gets out of here alive."
Oh, Terry. What a wonderful tribute to your father this story is. Thanks for sharing it. I hope you will continue to write stories about your mother and father. Your memories will keep them alive forever. You may ask yourself, "Will others find these personal memoirs of interest?" and I can say that absolutely they will!
Thanks, Carissa. I think the grief changes in a way. I should have liked to be able to talk to him, adult to adult, and not being able to do so makes me sad.
I'm very sorry to learn about Jeffrey's sister. That's far too young. Perhaps what you said was the best thing you could have said. After all, why fill someone with dread rather than hope?
I agree, June. Elaine and I have agreed that if one of us discovers he or she, or the other one, has a terminal diagnosis, we're going to be completely upfront about it, despite the difficulty of being so.
I’m so sorry for your loss. I know time has passed which eases the grief but posting this essay may have brought the loss to the forefront.
I regret that Jeffrey and I never spoke to his sister about the fact that she was dying. She was 27, in the hospital, no bone marrow match, and we continually told her she would be fine. They didn’t have hospice back then which would have prodded us into reality.
Thanks Terry. I think in many cases you're right. Yet I think there was something else too--I still haven't figured it out. He really loved life, so I just thought he'd have tried harder to fight. But maybe it was at least partly stories we all hear about how hard to get through the fight it can become...
Excellent writing Terry, on a subject that tops the most difficult to write about list. Thanks for sharing this beautiful and heartfelt memorial to your father. I wrote two tributes to my dad last year and it was a hard and sobering thing. You showed some bravery of your own here, my friend. I've said it before, and I'll say it again. When a man loses his father, he loses a piece of himself. Well done sir. - Jim
Thanks very much, Jim. "When a man loses his father, he loses a piece of himself." Yes, that's a very good way of putting it. I'm reminded of a Jewish proverb:
When a father helps a son, both laugh.
When a son helps a father, both cry.
I'd love to read the tributes you wrote to your dad. I had a look but couldn't find them. Could you give the links please? Thanks, Jim.
Of course, I'll D.M. you. I don't want to hijack or barge in on your work here. Once again, this was a great piece of writing and remembering by you, Terry. - Jim
Thanks, Jim, that's very considerate of you, but i have no problem with people posting relevant links. In my opinion it adds to the richness of the discourse. I'll read them tomorrow, by which time I will hopefully be refreshed from a good night's sleep
Thank you, Susan. I'm sorry to hear about your dad. It must have been doubly difficult seeing him deteriorating while not maintaining his treatment. At the risk of generalising too much, I think men, especially those of an older generation, believe it is somehow a sign of weakness to seek medical help.
Thanks, Beth. Hugs and best wishes to you too! Yes, I think all of the deaths in our family, and probably most families, seem to have occurred in the winter months, from October to December. 😢
Poignant, Terry. I love the photos of your mum and dad, and you and your dad, and your sister and your dad. I think you inherited your dad's sense of humor. What a wonderful thing to have shared with him and to have with you still.
Thanks, Mary. Really? What makes you say that?
Yes, really. I loved reading about your dad, and from what you described, he seems to have had a quick, dry, no-nonsense-y wit, and a kind heart, and was dashing and elegant (from the photos - very glamorous, dancing with your mum), dapper, too, wearing a tie while walking with you. I could be way off, but it's what I imagined after reading about him. I hope I didn't offend in any way.
Heartbreaking and moving, Terry. So well told. You painted a wonderful picture of your father and his personality. I'm sorry for your loss, but I'm happy you are able to share memories of him.
Thanks very much, Nathan. Glad you enjoyed reading it :-)
Ah, love. How generous of them both to try and protect the other, and I hope you won't mind me saying that it comes off as almost light hearted the way you tell it. Having lost both parents now, I know this had to be very hard on your whole family, something that weighed on all your future holidays, I'm sure.
So sorry that by standing strong for each other they denied themselves and you kids the opportunity to hold that sadness more openly. I guess that's what a lot of folks think they're supposed to do. I wish we could all talk more openly about death and dying. As they say, "Nobody gets out of here alive."
Thanks for sharing this so beautifully, Terry.
Thanks, Elizabeth. Yes, that well-meaning secrecy is not always the best approach — perhaps NEVER the best approach.
❤️🩹
Fathers! Geez! They seem to always be able to "take it" and then they die.
How is this?
Not sure. But it's a trait so often present and often grieved without understanding--then again: What do we UNDERSTAAND?
Only that there are infinite variations in "taking it".
Great reflection.
Oh, Terry. What a wonderful tribute to your father this story is. Thanks for sharing it. I hope you will continue to write stories about your mother and father. Your memories will keep them alive forever. You may ask yourself, "Will others find these personal memoirs of interest?" and I can say that absolutely they will!
Thanks very much, Sharron. As it happens, I absolutely DO ask myself that. Thanks for your reassurance in that regard.
Thanks, Carissa. I think the grief changes in a way. I should have liked to be able to talk to him, adult to adult, and not being able to do so makes me sad.
I'm very sorry to learn about Jeffrey's sister. That's far too young. Perhaps what you said was the best thing you could have said. After all, why fill someone with dread rather than hope?
Thanks for saying it's a beautiful piece.
I agree, June. Elaine and I have agreed that if one of us discovers he or she, or the other one, has a terminal diagnosis, we're going to be completely upfront about it, despite the difficulty of being so.
I’m so sorry for your loss. I know time has passed which eases the grief but posting this essay may have brought the loss to the forefront.
I regret that Jeffrey and I never spoke to his sister about the fact that she was dying. She was 27, in the hospital, no bone marrow match, and we continually told her she would be fine. They didn’t have hospice back then which would have prodded us into reality.
Beautiful piece.
That makes me so sad. People assuming they know what the other person wants or doesn't want to know. So many opportunities lost.
Thanks Terry. I think in many cases you're right. Yet I think there was something else too--I still haven't figured it out. He really loved life, so I just thought he'd have tried harder to fight. But maybe it was at least partly stories we all hear about how hard to get through the fight it can become...
Yes, that could have been the reason. It makes a lot of sense.
Excellent writing Terry, on a subject that tops the most difficult to write about list. Thanks for sharing this beautiful and heartfelt memorial to your father. I wrote two tributes to my dad last year and it was a hard and sobering thing. You showed some bravery of your own here, my friend. I've said it before, and I'll say it again. When a man loses his father, he loses a piece of himself. Well done sir. - Jim
Thanks very much, Jim. "When a man loses his father, he loses a piece of himself." Yes, that's a very good way of putting it. I'm reminded of a Jewish proverb:
When a father helps a son, both laugh.
When a son helps a father, both cry.
I'd love to read the tributes you wrote to your dad. I had a look but couldn't find them. Could you give the links please? Thanks, Jim.
Of course, I'll D.M. you. I don't want to hijack or barge in on your work here. Once again, this was a great piece of writing and remembering by you, Terry. - Jim
Thanks, Jim, that's very considerate of you, but i have no problem with people posting relevant links. In my opinion it adds to the richness of the discourse. I'll read them tomorrow, by which time I will hopefully be refreshed from a good night's sleep
Terry, so sorry. As usual, you wrote beautifully about this. The photos are lovely.
My dad died of cancer too. He seemed, I think, to be kind of in denial about it, and didn't go to doctors and keep up with treatment.
Thank you, Susan. I'm sorry to hear about your dad. It must have been doubly difficult seeing him deteriorating while not maintaining his treatment. At the risk of generalising too much, I think men, especially those of an older generation, believe it is somehow a sign of weakness to seek medical help.
Beautiful and heartbreaking 💔
Thanks, Maureen.
That time of year. Thanks for the memories. Sigh…. Sending hugs and best wishes.
Thanks, Beth. Hugs and best wishes to you too! Yes, I think all of the deaths in our family, and probably most families, seem to have occurred in the winter months, from October to December. 😢
Oh Terry, this is heartbreaking and so very, very beautifully written. Bravo, my friend. X
Thanks very much, Rebecca, for your kind words.