My friend, Lee, and I live odd parallel lives. She takes some of life’s hits for me and I for her – but sometimes we are following too closely behind – miles and miles apart.
This time it was the death of our father’s. Well, Lee’s dad left this earth- but it was my father who died.
I’ve been blessed with this friendship since 1984 and her dad’s presence in my life since 1987…he was funny, loving, smart, kind, adventurous and very English.
My father was my father at the very beginning and then on and off for nearly 60 years. He was intelligent, had a great sense of humor, athletic, and loved me in the whatever way he could on any given day.
I just attended Lee’s dad’s funeral on YouTube broadcast from Edith Weston, Rutland, UK. There were so many lovely people there who each knew him and loved him and shared him.
My father will probably not have a funeral, because he never wanted one…he had often said, just throw me in a hefty bag and leave me for the trash collectors – don’t waste the money.
Lee misses her dad every single day. I miss having more time to ask my father a few more questions.
Lee’s dad wanted to be with his family. My father wanted to stay home.
Honestly, the only actual difference between these two men, deep down, was that Lee’s dad was fearless and my father was terrified.
They both loved and sought to enjoy their lives and now they are both gone from this earth in every way that mere mortals can recognize. But their love is what they left behind. Easier, certainly, for Lee’s family than mine, to find.
