Loop Knocking

I was knocked for a bit of a loop yesterday when I opened Facebook for my daily descent into the mundane, fascinating, and sometimes disturbing lives of my friends. The Cantankerous One has been noticeably absent from his usual hectoring and I knew it was in part due to the amount of time he was spending caring for his parents. Yesterday he returned with the sad message that his mother had passed away the previous day, peacefully surrounded by her family. He wrote a simple but profoundly eloquent message announcing the news.

“Over the years I have read many heartwarming tributes to many of your parents when their work on earth had been completed and they were called home. With each tribute I have felt the pain of your loss, as well your comfort in knowing they were now in a better place. As I read your tributes it was always with the uneasy knowledge that soon it would be my turn to do the same. Well, today, 8/26/2015 happens to be that day. Today, my mother passed away surrounded by family following a brief period of declining health. Mom was 82, she was dedicated to her family and always placed the needs of others ahead of her own. Her family has many fond memories to comfort them as they attempt to smile in celebrating her life. Mom's work is done, and her spirit is free to ride the four winds no longer constrained by a failing body. Mom, we will carry those memories in our hearts forever as we continue to honor a life well lived. Rest peacefully Mom and know you will be missed, but never forgotten.”

I was surprised because she had seemed in better health than his father but life doesn’t always follow predictable paths. I immediately called my Cantankerous Friend and had a long conversation. He said while he knew this day was coming based on their age and infirmities, nothing ever really prepares you. I told him he should be proud of the devotion he’s demonstrated over the past few years. He accomplished what I failed to do. I wanted to get back to New England after my military career to help out my own mother as her health deteriorated. Life stepped in with another of those tangential moves and she passed away two years before I hung up the uniform. I’m driving up to Keene for the weekend and hope we get a chance to hang out because I found being with friends is the best medicine for times like this.

My Dedicated Friend is Hurting Today

The Cantankerous One lives and works near the seacoast region since his retirement from the Navy but every weekend since he’s retired he’s journeyed back to Keene to assist his parents. He’s sacrificed his own personal time to make sure they had everything they needed. While he can be a bit caustic at times I’ve always said he has a heart of gold beneath all the buster. There is no better evidence of that quality than the dedicated care he’s provided over the past few years.

It feels like yet another icon of my childhood has passed into the mists with his mom’s passing. There was a brief golden age of my family life when we moved into the Cantankerous One’s neighborhood when I was 8 years old. My parents seemed to be happily married and soon became good friends with his parents, including shared vacations by the two families to York Beach, Maine for several years. While my parents split up rather spectacularly I knew there would always be a kind word or gesture waiting for me when I visited the home of the Cantankerous One. His mom never failed to ask how I was doing and the clearest memory I have of her is that never failing feeling of welcome whenever I walked in. She dedicated a good portion of her life working for the Red Cross in Keene which will tell you even more about her character. We hadn’t talked in a long time other than brief phone conversations when I was trying to track down her elusive son but hearing her voice always brought back memories of childhood welcome. She even drove the Cantankerous One to last year’s birthday pub crawl and occasionally objected to the poetic license I used to describe her son’s personality in this blog.

I’m going to miss that voice when I call now. While I exist on the distant periphery of his family’s life, I know they’re all hurting and wish them whatever comfort the heartfelt wishes coming their way from the many lives their mother touched with, as my friend so articulately stated “a life well lived”