I've learned so many truths - many terrible, many exalting - from Death. One of the most useful is that we never even begin to understand someone until they're gone. Secrets, sly and horrible, emerge from places they've been hiding for 30, 40, 50 years. Insight arrives, luminous and unwelcome, like the mad opera-singing aunt you hoped would only stay for the weekend but moves in with her Verdi and cats. It's tempting to think Death changes us, but really, our long-cherished notions of what people are have insulated us from their realities. Exposed to them, we slowly unfurl and turn our faces, like sunflowers, to truth. Every day, now, after the multiple losses of my life, I thank Death and wonder who will bloom from mine.
I'm glad he told you to never give up on your writing. That's pretty awesome. Loved ones aren't always supportive on things like that. I lost my dad a few years ago, too. It is strange. I always pictured having a final talk with him, but it never happened. Nothing dramatic. He faded away. I think that often happens. It sounds like you've done a lot to work through the grief, though, and that's very healthy. It's a one-day-at-a-time thing and then we adjust. Thank you so much for sharing, Autumn.
It's tough to lose our parents. I think it makes us more 'adult' when it happens, of course, that is if it happens when we're already mostly grown up. When they go, we truly are on our own. If we're religious, as I am, we can at least look forward to seeing them again, somehow, somewhere. I went through a divorce when my children were young, 8 and 11. Custody issues are awful for children. My son and I have a good relationship. But my daughter, who still, at age, 35, lives with her mother, is estranged from me. I have reached out many times but get total silence. I know I won't be around forever. And I sometimes wonder how she'll feel when I go. But I don't think too often about her either, because other than pray, there is not much I can do. It is what it is. I just try to nurture the relationship I have with my son and wait and see what will come.
Thank you for sharing this Paul. I'm sorry about the estrangement with your daughter. I was angry with my father when I was younger, but we had a good relationship for most of my adult life. It was very sad to not be able to gain closure before he died though. I am sure if he knew he was going to die, he would have reached out to me. The biggest issue was not him but his wife being so controlling and vengeful for absolutely no good reason whatsoever.
Sometimes the best we can do is write a letter to the person we love and share our inner feelings with them without the expectation they will ever reply. At least we have shared those things and can gain some sense of closure that way.
I've learned so many truths - many terrible, many exalting - from Death. One of the most useful is that we never even begin to understand someone until they're gone. Secrets, sly and horrible, emerge from places they've been hiding for 30, 40, 50 years. Insight arrives, luminous and unwelcome, like the mad opera-singing aunt you hoped would only stay for the weekend but moves in with her Verdi and cats. It's tempting to think Death changes us, but really, our long-cherished notions of what people are have insulated us from their realities. Exposed to them, we slowly unfurl and turn our faces, like sunflowers, to truth. Every day, now, after the multiple losses of my life, I thank Death and wonder who will bloom from mine.
Thank you. Yes, people often hide many things, especially from themselves.
I'm glad he told you to never give up on your writing. That's pretty awesome. Loved ones aren't always supportive on things like that. I lost my dad a few years ago, too. It is strange. I always pictured having a final talk with him, but it never happened. Nothing dramatic. He faded away. I think that often happens. It sounds like you've done a lot to work through the grief, though, and that's very healthy. It's a one-day-at-a-time thing and then we adjust. Thank you so much for sharing, Autumn.
Thank you, Parker. I’m sorry for your loss.
Autumn, thank you for sharing your emotional truth about your father. I am sending lots of hugs your way.💕🙏
Thank you, Jen. Appreciate you.
Just found your publication in Ted Gioia's open mic thread. Thanks for sharing this!
It's tough to lose our parents. I think it makes us more 'adult' when it happens, of course, that is if it happens when we're already mostly grown up. When they go, we truly are on our own. If we're religious, as I am, we can at least look forward to seeing them again, somehow, somewhere. I went through a divorce when my children were young, 8 and 11. Custody issues are awful for children. My son and I have a good relationship. But my daughter, who still, at age, 35, lives with her mother, is estranged from me. I have reached out many times but get total silence. I know I won't be around forever. And I sometimes wonder how she'll feel when I go. But I don't think too often about her either, because other than pray, there is not much I can do. It is what it is. I just try to nurture the relationship I have with my son and wait and see what will come.
Sorry about losing your parents.
Thank you for sharing this Paul. I'm sorry about the estrangement with your daughter. I was angry with my father when I was younger, but we had a good relationship for most of my adult life. It was very sad to not be able to gain closure before he died though. I am sure if he knew he was going to die, he would have reached out to me. The biggest issue was not him but his wife being so controlling and vengeful for absolutely no good reason whatsoever.
Sometimes the best we can do is write a letter to the person we love and share our inner feelings with them without the expectation they will ever reply. At least we have shared those things and can gain some sense of closure that way.
Thanks for your condolences.
Thank you, Autumn. 🙏🏼🩵
Thank you for reading and for subscribing.