I lost both my parents without any sense of a real goodbye.
Gone.
My Father dying of a heart attack after completing a big race.
I still, nearly 12 years later, wonder what my last words to him were.
My Mother, dying of Covid, in a rehab facility right after the pandemic struck.
I never saw her after the facility closed.
Which was nearly a month before her passing.
I still have yet, to have, a ceremony.
There hasn't been a funeral.
No wake.
She has yet to be interned with my Father.
Her ashes sit next to the ashes of my dead childhood dog.
In my childhood home.
Which I don't have the heart to go to.
Don't have the courage to face.
I am a coward.
Because when I face it, I realize my life is done as I have known it.
I am an orphan.
I have lost my biggest advocates.
I am the last of my immediate family.
Childhood dead.
Innocence lost.
The reality pungent, to say the least.
As I type this, the tears streaming down my face.
The truth so hard to swallow, I find myself choking.
The reality being, no matter how old we are, we are fragile.
We need to be cared for, no matter how independent we think we are.
We need support.
Compassion.
Comfort.
Love.
We need hugs.
Kisses.
Consistency.
All of which I have lost.
Take nothing for granted.
Please.
Everything .
Look around.
Cherish.
Xoxo,
C.
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