The Tail

It's Memorial Day weekend which, tradition holds, marks the beginning of summer.

But for me, it's a solemn occasion.  Not because Memorial Day is the day set aside to remember those who died in defense of our country.  But because it is the weekend my father passed away in 1992.  In fact, May 23, today, is the exact date of his death.

It was one of the lowest points of my life.  I had suffered a psychotic break the previous December and had been hospitalized for ten weeks.  I was discharged only on the condition that I be under the supervision of my mother in Buffalo and not be living alone at my home in Maryland.  That meant being forced to take a leave of absence from teaching for the remainder of the semester.

So I was present from March until his death as I watched him suffer the horrible pain that accompanies the final stages of lung cancer.

I think of him all of the time, especially as my mom grows older and more ill.  Death begins to creep into my head again.  I am aware that it won't be that far into the future. 

I know I am so lucky to have my mom still with me.  She is my best friend.  So I will put aside all of those painful memories and the thoughts of what is to come and think of the present.   I will savor every day and thank God for each and every one of them.