My blog is where my wandering thoughts are interspersed with stuff I made up. So, if while reading you find yourself confused about the context, don't feel alone. I get confused, too.
If you're here for the stories, I started another blog: scratchingforchange.blogspot.com
One other thing: sometimes I write words you refuse to use in front of children, or polite company, unless you have a flat tire, or hit your thumb with a hammer.
I don't use them to offend; I use them to embellish.
jescordwaineratgmail.com
Sunday, April 27, 2014
The Irony of Life
As I was driving home, with my wife, to comfort my mother on the day my father died, this song played on the radio. It still bring tears.
My husband said something silly, teasing his sister as brothers are wont to do. He died six years later. She had not talked to him once during those six years. When she called me after he died, I asked her why. She said that he hurt her feelings. I replied that I really hoped that the grudge she held was worth it, for now she would never talk to him.
I have made it a point to never, ever let the small stuff get blown out of proportion, or to let it go too long and cause hard feelings. Life is way too short for that. I never want it to be too late.
I found my father, and I, had much more in common than I realized. When life finally brought us to the point we could share life's experiences, his ended and I regret missing every chance I had to visit.
Jess- this song speaks to many of us. I miss my parents more now than ever. Time hasn't exactly made it any easier it seems. We just push forward with our own lives and keep our memories close. And they are sometimes all we need :)
We usually become our parents, in some way or another. When life finally brings the opportunity to share the common ground, there's never enough time to enjoy all the moments.
Jess, the parallels of our lives with our fathers is almost spooky. By the time I had returned from spending a good number of years in the USAF and had moved back home, I only had a couple of years to spend with my father before he succumbed to a massive heart attack. I kick myself for not spending more time just sitting down and shooting the breeze with him, but at least I got to spend a lot more time with him than I would have if I hadn't have left the service and moved back to the area.
It just keeps getting freakier... I was 31, married 7.5 months and working a dead end job with no benefits and trying to figure out how I was going to support my new wife and the kid(s) that she wanted, as well as get out of the crappy, dilapidated old house we were renting. *Cues the "Twilight Zone" theme*
I remember driving home from my dad's funeral eight years ago with my family in the wee hours of the morning listening to The Eagles' "The Sad Cafe" on the CD player. Hard to even think of that song now without misting up.
My husband said something silly, teasing his sister as brothers are wont to do. He died six years later. She had not talked to him once during those six years. When she called me after he died, I asked her why. She said that he hurt her feelings. I replied that I really hoped that the grudge she held was worth it, for now she would never talk to him.
ReplyDeleteI have made it a point to never, ever let the small stuff get blown out of proportion, or to let it go too long and cause hard feelings. Life is way too short for that. I never want it to be too late.
I found my father, and I, had much more in common than I realized. When life finally brought us to the point we could share life's experiences, his ended and I regret missing every chance I had to visit.
DeleteJess- this song speaks to many of us. I miss my parents more now than ever. Time hasn't exactly made it any easier it seems. We just push forward with our own lives and keep our memories close. And they are sometimes all we need :)
ReplyDeleteWe usually become our parents, in some way or another. When life finally brings the opportunity to share the common ground, there's never enough time to enjoy all the moments.
DeleteJess, the parallels of our lives with our fathers is almost spooky. By the time I had returned from spending a good number of years in the USAF and had moved back home, I only had a couple of years to spend with my father before he succumbed to a massive heart attack. I kick myself for not spending more time just sitting down and shooting the breeze with him, but at least I got to spend a lot more time with him than I would have if I hadn't have left the service and moved back to the area.
ReplyDelete"Hug 'em while ya' got 'em."
I was 33, when my father died. I'd only been married a few years, was struggling with my mortgage and the realities of life were really sinking in.
DeleteI could go to my parents, sit for awhile, drink a beer or two and enjoy the time. I was finding the man that was my father and he was gone in a flash.
It just keeps getting freakier... I was 31, married 7.5 months and working a dead end job with no benefits and trying to figure out how I was going to support my new wife and the kid(s) that she wanted, as well as get out of the crappy, dilapidated old house we were renting. *Cues the "Twilight Zone" theme*
DeleteI remember driving home from my dad's funeral eight years ago with my family in the wee hours of the morning listening to The Eagles' "The Sad Cafe" on the CD player. Hard to even think of that song now without misting up.
ReplyDelete