Everyone besides Carlos and myself have left to go back home. Scott left yesterday, and Jenny and Marsha left early this morning. That just leaves us two old codgers to talk politics and visit a new local winery.
The trip was all at once horrible, for the obvious reason, and wonderful. I've never felt so connected to Carlos, Scott, Marsha or Jenny. We had great long conversations about life, both in the past, and what we expect will come in the future. And we ate great food, listened to music, and sorted through Mom's stuff to find momentos to keep and pass on.
As I sit here at my mother's desk and write this I look over at the small guide to the Pebble Beach links where I was going to take her in celebration of her recovery. Of course, we never got to play there, though part of her ashes will grace a hole with a beautiful ocean view in tribute to her love of the great game. It's clear to me now how much that all meant to her. Having goals and achieving those goals, especially when it came to her kids was what she lived for.
I'm crying a little now for the first time since I got here. And that's ok. We all greive in our own way. i suppose what saddens me most about all this is that I never really knew my mom as well as I could or should have. I was never able to breach that barrier between parent and friend in any real way.
Thanks for signing in, . Now you can comment. (sign out)
(If you haven't left a comment here before, you may need to be approved by the site owner before your comment will appear. Until then, it won't appear on the entry. Thanks for waiting.)