I haven't written about dad's actual death yet, it still hurts too much and I fear the tears would never stop.
Over the last few months mom has gone on a spree, giving away and donating things they've collected over the 50 plus years of marriage. I don't think she realized just how much 'stuff' they had.
Dad was a picture taker. It seems like he was always getting his camera out. Growing up it seems that he was always taking the same group picture, the same photo of a family dinner, the same photo of holidays. The same faces, the same Christmas tree, the same Thanksgiving table. What I didn't realize until after he was gone and mom started going through boxes upon boxes of these pictures was that he was documenting the history of our family. Our lives.
My throat gets tight and my eyes well with tears thinking about how our lives have changed. It's all there in black and white and color glossies to see.
So, mom, the boys (yes, we are all grown up but I still refer to them as 'the boys') and I have been going through these pictures, these treasures, this history. In the last few weeks though, mom has changed a little. She has started giving back all the pictures she had in frames around her house. She even gave back the wedding picture Warren and I gave to them, frame and all.
Mom found out, quite on accident, that dad had a life insurance policy (minimal). I guess it rolls over to her and she has to include beneficiaries. She needed our socials and phone numbers. She said many times "if I die tomorrow". It is likely part of the whole grieving process but it seems as though she is trying to make things easier on us kids by getting the house sorted out and such. It's weird.
Over the last few months mom has gone on a spree, giving away and donating things they've collected over the 50 plus years of marriage. I don't think she realized just how much 'stuff' they had.
Dad was a picture taker. It seems like he was always getting his camera out. Growing up it seems that he was always taking the same group picture, the same photo of a family dinner, the same photo of holidays. The same faces, the same Christmas tree, the same Thanksgiving table. What I didn't realize until after he was gone and mom started going through boxes upon boxes of these pictures was that he was documenting the history of our family. Our lives.
My throat gets tight and my eyes well with tears thinking about how our lives have changed. It's all there in black and white and color glossies to see.
So, mom, the boys (yes, we are all grown up but I still refer to them as 'the boys') and I have been going through these pictures, these treasures, this history. In the last few weeks though, mom has changed a little. She has started giving back all the pictures she had in frames around her house. She even gave back the wedding picture Warren and I gave to them, frame and all.
Mom found out, quite on accident, that dad had a life insurance policy (minimal). I guess it rolls over to her and she has to include beneficiaries. She needed our socials and phone numbers. She said many times "if I die tomorrow". It is likely part of the whole grieving process but it seems as though she is trying to make things easier on us kids by getting the house sorted out and such. It's weird.
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