Today would have been my dad’s 85th birthday. He used to joke, whenever someone complained about getting older, that the only other option was worse. He never really did complain about getting older himself and didn’t talk much about aches and pains. He was just kind of angry when he didn’t feel well, which is maybe an odd reaction, but it does bring some relief that he didn’t suffer for very long and didn’t have a long, drawn-out illness. He would have been pretty miserable with that kind of thing.
But. Still.
My deepest sympathy dear friend.
Thank you.
You know I know how you feel. I miss my Dad, even though I still argue with him sometimes. He would have been 93 this August.
Treasure your mom, which I know you do, and know that our experience of their love is the closest thing to immortality any of us will ever have.
Love and sympathy to you.
Please accept my very belated sympathies, Helen. I still miss my mother, and it’s been more than 35 years now.
Donna