Friday, October 2nd 2009
Okay. Intermission over.

I didn’t realize it would last so long, either.   (Thank you for all the emails.)

A List.

In order to diffuse any (of my) emotion…

1)  As mentioned before (and never explained, and how inexcusable is that?), someone wonderful died.  Suddenly, and while visiting us for the holidays.  His name was Colin, and we all loved him – but most of all, my mother loved him.

2) He loved her, too.  Deeply, sweetly.  He spoke about her strengths and quirks and talents with great gentleness and admiration.  He had a deep appreciation for everything that was good in his life — and she encompassed a lot of that.

3) He was outspoken about his deep gratitude for all things, and was often starting sentences with the phrases, “I’m so glad that…,”   “One thing about your mother that is so great…,” “I am thankful for…”

4) He looked like the Travelocity gnome, especially when he wore a hat.

5) He had a lovely Scottish accent.  About a week before he died, he spent hours telling me about his kids’ growing up years. He probably would have rather been napping, but I’m so grateful for that one long, uninterrupted afternoon we talked while the kids slept.

6) He loved potatoes.

7) He liked to watch my kids interact with one another and then make insightful, affectionate observations about them.  (Always positve, somehow, even while observing the same things that were making me want to pull my own hair out.)

8 ) On what turned out to be his last night, I made a truly dreadful meatloaf.  I don’t cook well at all, but he liked meatloaf, and I figured I’d try. It was awful.  He was so kind about it though, and he actually called for a round of applause during dinner for the Meatloaf Effort.  No, he didn’t call it that.  He pretended it was lovely. It wasn’t.  And it was his last dinner, and he was so very gracious.

9) My meatloaf (or perhaps anyone’s meatloaf, but especially mine) should never be anyone’s final ‘send off” meal.

10) List format didn’t help diffuse anything, and am crying eyes out.

He was truly wonderful. He’s missed.


9 Comments on “Okay. Intermission over.”

Heidi H
October 2nd, 2009
10:37 pm

So sorry for your loss. Hugs!

October 3rd, 2009
2:25 am

Oh, so very sorry you’ve lost a special friend, but glad your intermission is over. You’ve been missed, too.

October 3rd, 2009
3:31 am

Sorry for your loss – and that of your family. You will be in my thoughts.

On a happier note, I’m really glad your intermission is over! I have missed you!

October 3rd, 2009
4:00 am

I’m so sorry for your loss. But I’m so glad that you’re back! You’ve been missed.

October 3rd, 2009
4:37 pm

Dangit. You got me going all teary-eyed too and I didn’t even know him. He sounds like a truly wonderful person. I’m so sorry you (and especially your mom) didn’t get to have more time with him.

October 6th, 2009
10:32 am

I want to say I’m sorry again for your loss. He sounds like he was very special.

I am glad you’re back tho, and hope that writing will help you in your journey to heal.

October 6th, 2009
11:11 am

sorry for your loss…but welcome back

October 15th, 2009
12:12 am

Many many hugs for your loss, and even more because you are back. Love you to death, dear heart.

(((((HUGS))))) sandi
October 17th, 2009
4:54 pm

What a truly lovely tribute~just beautiful! SO sorry for your loss, and please forgive my giggle over his last meal. Somehow I just KNOW with SURETY waaaayy down deep inside that he would rather not have had it any.other.way. (((((HUGS))))) sandi

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