How odd, at more-than-middle age to feel the pangs of orphanhood. I thought perhaps, as being childless, losing parents is as close to losing child or spouse. But no, one of my sisters feels it too, beyond the scope of the passing of a much beloved father, a different realm than that of facing loss of child.
Stepping up to plate without the umpire watching. Choosing colors, styles without rebellion tingeing choice with its excitement. Driving thousands of miles beyond the twenty that he taught me. It would have pleased them both to know I’d gotten a degree, and yet I put this off as inconsequential to their feelings although in truth they’d known it was pursued. My mother understood at least that I was writing. My father spread the word down to the southern coast of a coveted honor earned. Who else but parents take the pleasure in every little step from first to last they proudly witness?
On my own and in my often wrongly taken paths since twenty-one, I’ve never felt alone as I do now.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology
In the end Susan, all you can do is try. It’s not just death that takes people away from us.
You are blessed to have such fine memories and the ability to express them so beautifully. Me and my dangling participles are here for you.
Thanks, Neha. It’s a selfish feeling that has little to do with loss of someone else, but rather a loss of self. And with death, there are no future options.
Daisy, you’re a sweetheart. It’s such a personal thing and yet it finds its way into my writing. Thanks.
I think I can relate. I expect that when my parents pass, I’ll go through a sort of mourning period for the relationship we never shared. Even though my parental relationships were bruised and battered, I imagine I will also feel very much alone when they are gone. Your choice of the word orphanhood was so perfectly appropriate for what you were trying to convey. To be without. Yes.
Thinking about you with gentle thoughts.