it occurred to me that all the people in my life that i have held dear have gone and left over the years. when i was 21, my mother died, and it was a loss that is etched in my heart, in my mind, in my soul. sometimes, i get to think, if there's really a heaven where the good souls go, would my mother recognize me as her eldest daughter because i am now 45 years older than my mother was. whenever i am sick, i still call out her name, like when i was a little so-and-so. or i'd pray she will come and take me with her already. and then there's always the wish that she could've lived longer and so i would've been able to provide her with a better life than she had known, at least experience what it would've been to not run out of money, a trip to the doctor whenever something hurt, a vacation somewhere nice every year, and some other small luxuries that she must've only dreamed of.
the first mr. summerfield died when i was 30. he was one of the smartest people i have ever known and met, one of the kindest soul, but he himself had a lot of regrets in his life and alcohol was his only escape, and no love and devotion could get him out of the pit. the second mr. summerfield died when i was 40, another kind soul and we loved each other so intensely i thought i would die, too.
i noticed that every decade of my young life someone died, so after two short but happy marriages, i thought it must've been punishment for not being true to my vow when i was young that i would not marry. when ex-partner came into my life, i told him i will not marry again but he made my life miserable for a long time. guess what, the effing bastard is still effing alive. he made my 50th and 60th decades death-free. but it's a good thing we're not together anymore.
A wonderful capture with great reflections. What I find so amazing about you Vikki, is your ability the way you tell your stories. This one is particularly heart rendering. When you retire one day, you should write a book :-)
