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I don’t think I’ve learned much at times
The last few weeks have been hard. No matter how much you think you are prepared for an inevitable event, you still find that you are never fully prepared for the grief of the loss of a loved one. A bit over 3 weeks ago, my wife’s Mother passed away after a long illness. <font color=”rgba(0, 0, 0, 0)” face=”inherit”>While we knew that one day she wouldn’t rebound from one of her many spells, it came suddenly and without drama or warning. I was away racing my motorcycle that morning so my wife was without my presence and that left me in a bad place within myself. Fortunately, her sister came up the day before (unannounced) and she visited with her late that evening; my wife had been there in the afternoon. A call in </font>the<font color=”rgba(0, 0, 0, 0)” face=”inherit”> morning to the hospital revealed that Mom was doing fine, vitals were stable and her breathing while somewhat labored was better than the previous day. Half an hour later before the two of them were ready to go in and visit, the phone rang and she had passed quietly not long after the nurses’ rounds. I got the news via voicemail after my race day was ended. But true to her way, when I called late afternoon with still one day left to race, she told me not to change plans, they had done all they could for the time being and to finish my weekend.</font>
<font color=”rgba(0, 0, 0, 0)” face=”inherit”>But years before, I had made a mistake. I promised to make a recording for my parents (now deceased as well, years before) of some songs I liked to sing. They hadn’t heard me sing since I was very young. Sadly they both passed before that came to be.
Fast forward 12 years to present day.</font>
<font color=”rgba(0, 0, 0, 0)” face=”inherit”>When we </font>realized Yvonne wasn’t ever getting out of the hospital, I decided that one day soon I would take my guitar into the hospital<font color=”rgba(0, 0, 0, 0)” face=”inherit”> and do a couple of her favorite songs that I knew. I had planned on the week after my first racetrack weekend. Obviously that would never happen now. My wife graciously told me that it wasn’t something I could have controlled or foreseen, but it left a hole in my heart that I can never fill. </font>
<font color=”rgba(0, 0, 0, 0)” face=”inherit”>So this past Sunday morning, two days after </font>the<font color=”rgba(0, 0, 0, 0)” face=”inherit”> Celebration of Yvonne’s life, I took my 12 string guitar out on </font>the<font color=”rgba(0, 0, 0, 0)” face=”inherit”> deck, my tablet and a speaker for backing tracks, and I played and sang for about an hour… every song I knew that she would know and like. When I finished, I came in </font>the<font color=”rgba(0, 0, 0, 0)” face=”inherit”> house to see my wife sitting in the chair by the patio door with tears in her eyes. “It’s OK, she heard you.” was all she said.
Never pass up an opportunity to do something that you might never have the chance to do again. Especially for someone you care for.
Rest well my dear
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