How does one handle the death of an estranged parent? And isn’t it interesting that, after experiencing same, I create an abstract question out of it?
It’s not an abstract question. Yet I’m at a loss. Suffice it to say that it’s best to remember the dead in their best light. Why not? What else is to be done?
Perhaps I’ll write more later on this. I don’t know. For now, well, there have been moments – sad, feeling cheated out of even having a father for most of my adult life. I think it was there for my brother, and I'm glad of that. But I also remember all the fun times -- swimming, boating, grilling, swimming, boating, brilling -- canoeing! All that is marvelous, and that Dad was a lot of fun.
I'm also glad I was there when he died. And that we got through it all, and all the post-production, without anyone acting petty or mean. I am really thankful for that part, the calm, and kindnesses. But it's hard to miss someone I never saw. Or is it?
Overall, you know, death is death. It is not even betrayal. There is no injustice involved. Death is just the big Is.
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