Adulting.

On March 20th, 2010, after completing a 30 mile bike ride, my Father collapsed, and died of a massive coronary.

On April 15, 2020, my Mother, recovering from a hospital visit in a rehab facility, succumbed to Covid.

The realization that I am now the only adult I can count on, is quite frankly, petrifying.

Is there ever going to come a time when I feel like I won't need my Mom or Dad?

There have been so many times over the years I have said to myself, I wish my Dad was here because he could fix this or build that.

I now find myself wanting to constantly pick up the phone, to call my Mom and ask for advice, or just tell her how my day is going.

Especially now.

There is something humbling about losing both of your parents, and at what I consider to be such a young age.

We grow up with the notion our parents will die before us. In fact we know we all have an expiration date.

Some much sooner than others.

I often wonder if I had siblings would I still feel as empty as I do? But I can't let myself caught up in the what if's, that's always a dangerous road to travel down.

As hard as things were towards the end, I thought I might feel a sense of relief that the responsibilities my Mother had put on me would be over.

It didn't happen.

What did happen was that I was left with such a strong sense of loneliness.

I was the only adult I could count on from here on out. Advice? I had to take my own. Fixing things? That would fall on my shoulders now.

I am going to face the rest of my life alone, without my parents.

The last Foust.

There is one thing however that I keep returning to.

Maybe because I was an only child, they prepared me.

They prepared me well.

They afforded me the best educations money could buy.

They let me indulge in any and every hobby I was interested in. Ice skating lessons at Rockefeller Center, pottery and jewelry classes. Skiing lessons, tennis lessons, swimming on a team year round.

They not only let me travel, they encouraged it, from Argentina to Australia.

My Mom taught me about finance, my Dad about culture. My Mom taught me to trust my intuition, my Dad to love reading. They both encouraged a life long love for learning.

My Mom showed me how to cook, my Dad educated me on how to fix stuff.

In their own ways, throughout my life, they were preparing me as best they could, for the one day that they would be gone.

And I had no idea they were doing it, because they were creating such happy memories.

It is in that same vain I have tried and will continue to try and teach my children.

I am trying to make you both proud.

I am hoping you both see this from up there.

I know you prepared me, but it doesn't mean it wouldn't be nice to call, or have something fixed.

Being prepared doesn't make me not miss you.

It does, however, make me thank you.

Thank you both.

Xoxo,

C.