Time

My dad was born May 31, 1932. If he was still alive he’d be 90 years old today.

He died when he was 63 years/seven months. My husband died a week from being 63 years/seven months. I’m about three weeks away from being 63 years/seven months. All that to say that soon I will have lived longer on this earth than Dad and Chuck. It puts time in a different perspective when I look at those facts. I’m just not sure what it all means.

I’ve been thinking of all the things Dad missed, but really it’s all the things we missed without him being there. We didn’t get to hear his jokes and silly phrases. He didn’t get to see me graduate from college at 39. He didn’t see his grandkids graduate from anywhere. He never knew about his five great-grandkids, so they never got one of his goofy nicknames. He missed the weddings, too. 

And I think of what Chuck will miss. In two weeks he will have been gone two years. It seems like yesterday and it seems like a lifetime ago. Here again, it’s me who will miss him sharing all the events, the milestones, the joys, the sorrows with me.

I am becoming more aware of the Now and the Not Yet. Now, on earth, is still good. The Not Yet is better. I cling to that. 

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