This is a photo Daughter #2 took as two Marines began to fold the flag draped over my mother's casket. Another Marine played "Taps" on a bugle in the distance.My mother's suffering is over and she is--at last--at peace. But there are plenty of tasks for the rest of us to do.
Yesterday, I helped my father by taking my mother's clothing out of the closet, putting it into bags, and donating it. I did not get rid of all the clothes. There were a few blouses and sweaters my mother never wore--the price tags were still attached.
My father intends to move out of his house as soon as possible. He says it's too big and empty for him. Everyone has advised him not to do anything for at least a year, but Dad is set on getting an apartment.
I know he is getting too old to take care of the house, but I grew up in it. It holds a lot of fond memories for me. I will hate to let it go.
1 comment:
I understand the loss of a childhood home. I often wander back to the ranch where I grew up. It no longer looks the same and I think I feel more sadness seeing it in it's current state than remembering it as it was.
Blessings to you and your family in this transitional time.
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