Slow Pain

We are used to the saying, "The only certain things are death and taxes." While this is a true statement, the idea of death in our lives is complicated. As we age, most of us watch our parents pass away. We may watch siblings pass. Overtime our friends and peers leave us. Even our pop culture icons die, and with their deaths, do aspects of our lives we enjoyed, and memories linger.  My dad lived into his 90s. I have no doubt as his friends, his wife, sister and brother passed before him, he felt his world get a little smaller. 

This has been on my mind lately. I call it the slow pain. It's slow, because it runs over the course of our lives. It's not quick. Some deaths impact us more than others. Some we pause, remember, and move on. When taken in total though, we watch what was our lives erode over time. 

I am sure some of you think this is a depressing topic. It is. There is hope though. The hope is that instead of dwelling on the loss, we remember the good times, the sweet people, the special moments that these people were a part of. 

As many of you know, my most painful loss has been losing my mother. She was my biggest supporter from the beginning. She defended me to my dad when he was unhappy, fed up, or just didn't know what to make of me. She believed in me, and what I could do. She let me know that this was my world, and I should see as much of it as I can. Because of her, I traveled to the most amazing places. 

Holding her hand at the end, and telling her we would be ok, was the hardest thing I've done, because to be honest, I didn't know if we would be ok. I just wanted her to relax and go if she needed to go. I wanted her pain to end. So I lied...sort of. 

My goal is to live into my 90s. We'll see what life has in store for me. I know I will lose people along the way. I just don't want to be a a sad old man. I don't think I will, but I put this out there so someone will remind me in a few years.