Sweet Imaginary Reunion

Photo (I’ve been looking at this tiny glass photo frame of my parents and I for as long as I can remember. How fitting for this blog post.)

I’m in the final weeks of publishing my book. Just typing that sentence has opened the floodgates; the tears are streaming down my cheeks one minute in. Yikes. 

My dad is somewhere in the heavens smiling down and crying right along with me. As I’ve mentioned, he gave me these crying genes. My mom wasn’t a crier, but she’s nonetheless wearing a smile.

When my dad died, my parents lived in Petaluma. My first husband Ron and I traveled up to Petaluma to bring my mom down to the funeral in the Bay Area. It was a somber journey. We had my dad’s burial suit hanging on the hook in the back seat on the passenger’s side. Ron and I were sitting in the front, my mom in the backseat. 

As we drove through Marin toward the Golden Gate Bridge, I felt something brush against the back of my head/neck. My eyes were closed, and I thought it was Ron reaching over to console me. I appreciated the gesture. 

As I opened my eyes, I could see that Ron’s hands were on the steering wheel. When I turned around, I found that it was the sleeve of my dad’s suit jacket flipping forward, blowing in the wind. To this day, I’m not even sure how that could happen with the front window open, but it did. And I didn’t really need or want to make sense of it. 

On that day, and ever since, I understood it was my dad reaching out one last time physically. I closed my eyes and embraced the connection. 

As we passed through the toll booth, we received a 2 dollar bill back in change. At that time, it was relatively uncommon to get a 2 dollar bill. I still have it in my wallet. Funny what we hang on to. I probably would have asked to keep the suit had he not needed to be buried in it. 

I’m not sure why that memory would surface as I sit to write this, but I’m probably missing my parents a bit more than I anticipated at this juncture. I wrote about them a few weeks back in a blog that touched on several loved ones that have departed. But tonight, as I am writing about proofreading and other last-minute subjects, all I can think about is them and how proud they would be of me. And I can’t stop crying. 

As I’ve said in probably hundreds of words at this point, we were such a flawed little family, the three of us, and I’ve omitted more than I’ve included in that regard. But the one thing we had on our side was love. While I wished my parents had not suffered from their individual demons, I never doubted for one moment how much they each loved me. And love at the end of the day can be the saving grace.

My mother wasn’t much of a reader. She didn’t have the luxury of being able to attend college. Her family was so poor that she likely just barely got through high school. But she was a determined hard working woman and became a beautician. She was always able to make a living even during the depression when her first husband could not find work. She wasn’t one for teaching me how to dream, but she was the person who taught me how to work hard and finish a project no matter how difficult it was.

My dad, on the other hand, had the means to attend college. He probably was one of the most avid readers I’ve ever known. I know they would both be proud of me, but for different reasons.

I am sending this post out to the heavens letting my parents know that it’s time for a celebration. In a few weeks, your girl will be a published author. Whatever we all did wrong, we did a few things right. I wouldn’t be here at this juncture without every single thing (good and bad) that you both taught me.

Love you both from here to the moon. I’ll be looking for that comet streaking over our house soon to commemorate my book’s publishing.

9 Comments

  1. Very touching. It made me think of how often my Ron used to say, “our parents did the best the could with the knowledge that they had”. In the end all that matters is Love. Love you my dear friend 💖

  2. Looking forward to reading your book!

  3. Very nice Sue! Experiences like this is what connects us and we all have in common. Life not good or bad, life is life. Yes! Our parents did the best they could, and I know they did a fantastic job. When we remember them, they are never forgotten. Congratulations and we are so proud of you and of being your friend. GOD is so good to us. Can’t wait to read the book. Love you guys.

    • Lalo, such a sweet response, thank you. I agree, we all are doing the best we can. One of the nice things about aging is that I have come to understand that truth. It’s pretty freeing. We are so blessed to have you and Janet as our friends. And looking forward to celebrating with you soon in Sedona!

  4. We remember the past and think of what could have been.
    Then we realize what we have now is as precious as what might have been. Maybe even more so because we possess them now and are not yet a memory. Sue it is clear that you take great pleasure in your accomplishment of your FIRST book. Cherish it and know that we all are very proud of you. I believe your next one will happen with greater ease. Can’t wait to read them all.
    Congratulations!!!

    • Thank you, Clay! I appreciate your kind and encouraging words!

  5. P.S. Lalo is right God is So Good to Us.

    • Amen to that!


Add a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *