Monday, April 17, 2023

19

April 17. 

I always think about Jimmy on this day. But this year, there’s a more profound sense of miss.  

I wish he were here to help with Dad.  

I miss his physical presence because right now it is the thing most needed. We’re all determined to tend to Dad‘s daily needs as we seek to honor his request to stay at home with hospice until the end. We’re also decided to relieve Mom of some of the exhausting constancy of care. 

Between my brother-in-law, nephew, and me, there’s someone with him 24hrs/a day. More than the necessary physicality and the utility of handling the daily needs of someone who can no longer do those things unassisted,  I’m finding the 3 of us drawn closer to one another as we do this work. There’s a bonding that occurs for those who stand watch. 

The thought of Jimmy participating in the sacred work of caring for our dad and mom would lighten the load for sure.  It might also have been a thing, maybe the thing that would have drawn us closer.  Here’s to the never-ending regret of relational work delayed for which time ran out.  

So I feel the absence of his presence in a pretty profound way this year.   When Dad talks about what it will be like on the other side, the first thing he always says is that he’s going to find Jimmy and get one of his big bear hugs.  

Yeah, I could use one of those right now too. And God knows I’d do about anything to give him one. 

Love you, brother, and miss you. 

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