"There is a land of the living and a land of the dead, and the bridge is love, the only survival, the only meaning."
Two weeks ago my father died - aged 90 he died a quick and easy death. He could live at home, looked after by wonderful people, until the end. It is sad - but it is good the way it is.
I spent all last week in my parents' house, which I will have to empty and give back to the landlord by the summer. It is not the house where I grew up up in, but my family has lived there for more than 30 years and it is full of memories. And the fact that both of my parents are now dead, means that a part of my life has come to an end: I am no longer a daughter. In a way, it marks the final end of childhood.
However - if I look at things properly, I see that I ceased to be the child years ago. Gradually, I had to take over tasks for my parents, had to look after them - and even make decisions for them. I have already grown up.
And the house, which during the first weekend after my father's death was so filled with his "spirit" that I thought I could feel his presence, is becoming a stranger. It is a place where I sleep and work when I am there. Of course, in the end all the things that made up my parents' lives, will be thrown away.
But they are only THINGS. I have the memories in me, everything they taught me, all the laughter we shared, all the worries and the care they gave me. I carry their love in me and my love for them.
I am ready to let go - and it does not leave me sad or desperate.
"... and the bridge is love, the only survival, the only meaning."
Happy Easter to those, who celebrate it. The Christian holiday that celebrates the victory of life over death. The victory of (God's) love over death.
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| (photo: Guillermo Macias, Mexico) |
