hmmm…..
It is becoming apparent that
very shortly we are going to have to rip my 91-year-old Dad from the home he
has lived in for close to 65 years. It’s a home we all grew up in; one that my
Dad basically built with his bare hands.
Well, maybe I am exaggerating, but he didn’t have a nail gun or
pre-fabs; only hammers, nails and an imagination. Our family home has gotten old and is
difficult to heat, cool, clean and keep in repair so it is kind of falling down
around my Dad. But our home is probably his most priceless possession. I would guess he loves it almost as much as
he loves us.
My brothers and sisters and I have avoided moving
my Dad for years now. We never thought
that my Dad would go before my Mom. And
with Mom I don’t think it would have been so hard. Mom loved adventure and I think she would
have welcomed new surroundings in an assisted living center. But Dad has lived longer and although he has
done much better than we ever expected, it is now time to face the fact that
living in his home is no longer a viable option for him.
I don’t think we ever thought it would
be this hard. We all told ourselves that
we were keeping Dad in our family home because he would never agree to
leave. But now that the deed is eminent,
I realize that for me and maybe all of us, that home is a symbol of security,
stability and love. I don’t want to have
to go back in that home without life living there. I don’t want to let it go.
As I write this the tears begin to
flow. Even more than losing my parents, saying
good-by to what has past and to what will never be is like ripping a part of me
away. And I guess moving my Dad out of
his beloved homestead rips us all apart in a way that can never be recaptured
again.
hmmm…..
