"We are not the first and we won’t be the last,

For the threads wound too tight to unravel.

If we stare in the future and never look back,

We won’t see the road we have traveled."

I first found comfort in these words when my mother passed away almost 10 years ago. On January 24^th of this year I lost my father at age 87. For the past several years I grieved his diminished capabilities from a series of small strokes that left him with almost no short-term memory. Thankfully he always remembered his children as one of us made a daily visit to first his group home and then his nursing home.

As a part of saying good bye to my dad my brother, sisters and I went through personal papers my parents had saved over the years. I found news clippings I had sent to my parents as a young man to make them proud of their son’s accomplishments. I found the poem I had written to my dad as a part of my wedding celebration.

My wedding day represented a turning point in my relationship with my father. On that day I not only wanted to make him proud, but I also wanted to publicly honor him. I also found a letter I had written to him after my wedding ceremony where I was giving him advice on how he could better live his life. I discovered that my proud dad took my advice no better than his proud son took his.

After my mom died my father quickly let his children know he was capable thank you very much of making his own decisions and running his own life. He did quite well too until he got to the point where he could no longer care for himself. Fortunately, he was not aware that he got to that place.

I thought of my experiences with my dad again recently when I was called by a neighbor to check on my 90-year-old neighbor when he did not answer his phone. I found him lying on his bathroom floor having fallen and unable to get up. He had been there for many hours.

After I helped him get up and onto a chair the emergency squad arrived. I repeatedly encouraged him to go to the hospital, which he eventually agreed to do. My wife and another neighbor went with him to the emergency room. He had pneumonia (my dad had just died from pneumonia) and was admitted into the hospital.

Once I returned to my home I found myself wanting to cry. I began to think of the two very proud men who had lived full and independent lives. I wondered if my neighbor would be able to return home.

One of my neighbors stopped by the next morning to comment on what a good neighborhood we lived in and I agreed with her. I realized if it was to stay that way people such as my wife and I who only had been there for 13 years would have to step up and fill the shoes of neighbors who knew and cared for one another for 50 years or more.

Having now lost both my parents I find myself feeling like a number 8 hitter suddenly being asked to bat clean up. I am also aware that both of my children watch and learn from their parents. I can remember as a young man rejecting the ways of my dad as I struggled to find my way. Not unlike our recent experiences with our son as he becomes a teenager. Ironically, as a middle aged man I have become in many ways my father’s son and could not be any different if I tried.

Life offers many opportunities and trials many of which are seemingly small. Many times the event or experience occurs and is over before you have time to reflect or even understand what has happened. Your character is formed and you respond without thought. I wish with all my heart to honor those who have come before me who have helped to shape who I have become.