I’ll Carry You Home
I’m heartbroken listening to James Blunt’s “I”ll carry you home.”
Realizing it is a song written for a man killed in action (click video) doesn’t provide a balm. I lost my father to lymphoma cancer in 2007. He was my mentor, my hero, my first love. Flashback to 1960′s and 1970′s and he was the one that played catch with the baseball mitts; each throw a mental intimidation with cause and effect. If I sent a stinger, he retaliated. Fair and square. An amazing teacher. His fastballs, high pop ups and grounders groomed my future. He took his daughter fishing. He taught me to change the oil in my car and he helped me blow out the candles on my first birthday cake while my mother was in the hospital having my brother! Thank you, dad–you gave me strength.
In the first days following his death I was curled up in a fetal position, crying hysterically. It was up to me to write his obituary and his memorial. I’m writing this because he always INSISTED that my mother was the strongest of the pair. I thank God forever for my mother. She is the glue that holds me together. It was devastating to lose my father, but he prepared me for the future–which I hope is a long way away. My mother is my EVERYTHING.
She is strength and survival. She is giving. She is loved by more people than she realizes. She is the matriarch. Mom, I love you.
We get one shot at life; as I age, I see this. I’m blue tonight. Loss is a sneaky opportunist; rearing up, unannounced, and causing pain that wrenches and twists. I texted my daughter, Jennifer, and she called at almost midnight to check in on me…a chip off the old block. Yes, I’m blue, but I count my blessings. The circle of life continues.
Dairy Air