When my father was dying, and I held his hand and talked to him, one memory flashed in my mind: my sisters and I playing in the leaves with Dad one Sunday afternoon in front of our house. I know it was a Sunday because my father was almost always working Monday through Saturday. For all I know, it was as much of a chore as he didn't feel like doing.
But at the end of his life, somehow, in the depths of a brain that couldn't remember hours before, this memory appeared like magic. That is what I remembered last.
Grief and loss have changed who I am, surprising me every day. Time feels frozen, yet some days my mind spins as I lose myself in the void of grief.
Time is always a challenge in my house, as it is in every house. As a single parent, time is impossible to grasp. I wish for more of it and then chase it away, all in a single evening.
I realize I am here right now; these are my memories and my kids' memories. Not our next vacation, not the next holiday. Now. Thursday, after dinner and homework.
Do I mess up sometimes? Do I let my unfortunate mix of adolescent and premenopausal hormones get the best of me? Yes. But I try my best to step back and remember, it's not about consciously choosing to do "something fun" with my kids.
Still, I can try. I can aim to find joy with my kids at the post office, while folding laundry, or making dinner — all of the things that usually take time away from them. One of those everyday moments might become their most cherished memory of me.
Oh, the pressure.
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Photo Source: Life Magazine: "Relive Your Childhood With These Photos of Kids Enjoying Autumn Leaves"
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