I have often told people that this blog is my happy place, a recording of memories that I can go back and peruse and smile. So I don't talk about anything sad.
But are endings always sad? Is crossing a finishing line a bad thing, even if it means the race is over?
So here it is--deep breath. It's not in the blog anywhere, but my mother passed away three years ago. I miss her. Always will.
But possibly not as much as my father did. Had my mother lived three more weeks, they could have celebrated their 71st anniversary (I give her those three weeks, and say that it counts). That's a long time to have someone always at your side (or at your back). That leaves a lot of emptiness.
My mother's wish was that if one of them died before the other, that I would keep the ashes until they could be dispersed together. I've done that. Like she did so much in life, she has been waiting for my father.
The time has come. Dad passed a week before Christmas. It's not sad, really, and he was ready. They both had long lives, well lived, and it was time to cross that finishing line. I brought his ashes home yesterday, and put them with Mom's, and they're back together again. They'll go out to the ocean soon.
I find it oddly sweet and comforting that yesterday, the day that once again they were side by side, was their wedding anniversary.