I hope everyone enjoyed their fourth and had a happy and safe holiday.
July fourth is always a bittersweet day for me because my daddy died on this date in 1980. The first few years were rough to watch and enjoy the fireworks. Now I use the day as a remembrance day and think of old times.
Every fourth, our daddy would load all seven of us up in the station wagon and we’d drive into town to watch the fireworks at the fairgrounds. Those were the days of sweat and slapping mosquitoes, as we ooohed and aaahed at the amazing sight overhead. Each blast was more colorful and bigger than the last one.
I bet my husband will also look at this holiday as I do from now on. His ninety-six-year-old dad passed away yesterday morning. I’m so struck by this and wondering if there’s some deeper meaning there, something I can’t see yet. After all, what are the odds that this would happen, for our fathers to die on the same day?
When the nurse told my husband Friday that his dad had about two days left because his organs were shutting down, I knew at that moment that he would go on Saturday, July 4.
He’s very lucky he had his dad so long and the man was in good shape and rarely sick, but old age caught up with him and I think he was tired. We could see a downhill slide from the moment he had to give up his driver’s license six months ago. Since he couldn’t drive, he sold his big diesel truck shortly after. His freedom had vanished. He loved to go to garage sales every Saturday and look around the hardware store. No longer able to jump in the truck and go, he watched a lot of TV because he’d lost the enthusiasm to tinker on things, which he’d done since I met him more than forty years ago.
He was a good man who lived a healthy, long life and was never judgmental of others. I’m sure it about killed him to admit he finally needed a cane to steady himself. Even then, he wouldn’t use it all the time.
I know, when I get that old, if I do, I’ll be the same way. Somehow, it’s different to know you have a vehicle in the garage that can take you any place you want to go, even if you prefer to stay home most of the time. It must hurt many older folks to lose that freedom and be dependent on others.
I wish my daddy had lived so long, but somehow it was meant to be that, at age fifty-five, he would leave this world behind.
My husband will be in another state for a while sorting everything out. I’ll be a bachelor girl for a couple of months. We’ll see how things go and what adventures I’ll get into. Stay tuned.