I received several texts about yesterday’s chalkboard. Curiosity about Angel numbers, cigarette smoke and my mom tucking me in from heaven.
Simple answer…..
I can’t grieve the loss of my parents if I don’t miss them. I can’t get sad that they are gone if they are always around.
Maybe my mom isn’t there to put butter and jelly on my toast, but I’ll always have the memory of her telling me,
My dad doesn’t take me on Saturday morning errands anymore, but he’s sitting in Betty the Blazer with me when I’m running mine.
At the end of their lives my dad ended up in Pittsburgh and my mom was living in Indianapolis.
My dad was 460 miles away from his front porch in Oak Park. My mom had mile marker 222 on I-65 and 184 miles between her and her Pumpkinhead.
Yeah…. That’s funny isn’t it? Pumpkinhead! Well she gave birth to me so she has that right….
Anyway…….
You’d think heaven is further than four hundred and sixty miles or one hundred and eighty four miles…
It isn’t…..
Heaven is as close as a prayer or a memory.
And that’s how a divorced dad deals with the death of his parents!
We all deal with grief differently… I don’t have time to deal with it. So Don and Cecilia visit me on a daily basis.
I would appreciate if they could tamper with the stop lights when I’m driving to work in the morning.
That’s something they haven’t perfected yet, but every once in awhile I’ll get five or six green lights in a row and know mom and dad are near.
