Re: OOC # 31
Bittersweet day today...it was my aunt's funeral. I have some very fond memories of her and my uncle and their family...Uncle Jack was always the closest to my dad, not just in age...my grandparents died when my dad was still in his mid-teens, and Uncle Jack basically took care of him until he was an adult...bought a service station and gave him a job, they cut each others' hair for decades (for most of my life, the only people I ever saw my dad get his hair cut by were Uncle Jack and my older brother, who started filling in for Uncle Jack when his schedule didn't allow for convenient times to do hair cuts).
Jack died a few years ago, aged 92. Aunt Lillian died last week, aged 91...and while her physical health had faltered in her last few years, she had sharp wits to the very end. So, it was a relief to know that she was no longer hampered by a body that was failing her...and it helps that I have strong religious beliefs that support the concept of an afterlife where we will unite again as a family. The hard part was watching my cousins' kids struggling with coming to grips with her being gone...the funeral was beautiful, but at one point, they had all of Lillian's grand-daughters (and grand-daughters-in-law) stand up and sing a song as a group...which was lovely, but poignant to see the moments where some of them were overcome and couldn't keep singing for a while.
It's also a little alarming that, for that generation of the family, my mom is the last one left...The Last of the Mohicans, as my older brother put it at one point. And while she is in generally good health, time is catching up with her. She didn't go to the grave-side ceremony because she no longer trusts herself walking on uneven ground...she can get around her house (slowly) without a cane but typically uses one, and definitely doesn't leave the house without one. And while I've been taller than Mom since junior high, I'm definitely noticing that the differential is increasing...and it's not because I'm getting taller.
My oldest brother made the observation that, out of that generation, the oldest was my Aunt Nelda (tied with Uncle Jack), who died at 92...and Mom's only got to last six more years to have lived longer than any of them (Dad died in his mid-60s, almost 25 years ago...if he was still here, he would be 92 this year--and probably still praying to die a fast death before he got too old and frail to take care of himself. He got his wish, in that regard). I like her odds...but six years is a frighteningly brief span of time, at the point in my life. It won't be much longer and that generation will be gone...
Cheery thoughts, I know, but it's been gnawing at the back of my mind all evening and I had to get it out somewhere.