Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Mortality in Splintered Steps

Steve's father died yesterday. At 94, we all agreed he had years left. Harry still babysat his great-grandchildren, loved lobster rolls, loved his wife Evelyn more than anything.

One can wax on about mortality as if it's to be measured on the vet's scale. But life will have its way in splintered steps, marching or leaping or shuffling forward until it fades away with the morning mist.

Breathe in. Then sigh.

3 comments:

Accidental Poet said...

You all are in my prayers.

Kay Day said...

It's hard to lose a parent, no matter their age, or yours. Prayers for you and your husband's family.

Kathryn Mackel said...

Thank you so much. Prayers are always embraced. The family is doing well.