Beautiful and touching. Our parents and their homes. Our lives and our children. Our growing older and aging. All full of complications, messiness, compassion, love, laughter, tears, and life. Thank you for this. beautiful piece Asha.
Wow. this piece really hit me. I'm 54 & the passage of time is really hitting lately. Ugh, it's hard when my anxiety creeps into my avoidance. Sounds like it all hit you unexpectedly with your dad's passing (sorry, hugs) & then omg the pandemic blasts in. Beautiful piece. Thank you so much for sharing.
Oh, Julie. Thank you for the sympathy and kind words. I deeply understand the anxiety. I'm 54 as well, and that kernel of fear I wrote about has been with me much of my adult life. In spite of the grief and overwhelm of these last three years, that fear has been replaced by a spaciousness I couldn't have predicted.
CAM, your comments mirror my sentiments. My divorced parents waited until I left for college to sell my childhood home. The summer before freshman year, that's where I lived. When I came home from my freshman year, someone else lived in my house. It's been 36 years and I still long for what was in that house. I miss everything that that house represented to me; all the love, joy and laughter. When I am in that neighborhood, I still drive by and take the time to look at it and remember when it was ours.
Love your reflections and can feel the joy and sadness all at the same time. Comfort and strength to lives built amongst the familiar and the new. Thank you for sharing.
This is so beautiful. I feel like I want you to print it out and secretly bury it in their garden for the next family to find one day.
(but in a way that’s not creepy, obvs!)
Also I hadn’t read your grief diary before ❤️ Sitting here having a cry. What a beautiful tribute. I was particularly moved by three of the photos: the picture where you can see your dad’s bare feet; the picture of him as a handsome young man (of course!); and the photo of little tiny Asha with him. As the parent who’s closest to the “dad” role in my daughter’s life (and given how close in age she is to the age you were), that was the one that finally brought me to tears. Thinking of you and he tonight xxx
(and yes, I am sporadically catching up on old posts I’d missed!) XxM
Beautiful and touching. Our parents and their homes. Our lives and our children. Our growing older and aging. All full of complications, messiness, compassion, love, laughter, tears, and life. Thank you for this. beautiful piece Asha.
Thank you, Cam. Appreciate all your warmth here.
<3 Love this, Asha.
Thank you so much, Debbie.
Wow. this piece really hit me. I'm 54 & the passage of time is really hitting lately. Ugh, it's hard when my anxiety creeps into my avoidance. Sounds like it all hit you unexpectedly with your dad's passing (sorry, hugs) & then omg the pandemic blasts in. Beautiful piece. Thank you so much for sharing.
Oh, Julie. Thank you for the sympathy and kind words. I deeply understand the anxiety. I'm 54 as well, and that kernel of fear I wrote about has been with me much of my adult life. In spite of the grief and overwhelm of these last three years, that fear has been replaced by a spaciousness I couldn't have predicted.
CAM, your comments mirror my sentiments. My divorced parents waited until I left for college to sell my childhood home. The summer before freshman year, that's where I lived. When I came home from my freshman year, someone else lived in my house. It's been 36 years and I still long for what was in that house. I miss everything that that house represented to me; all the love, joy and laughter. When I am in that neighborhood, I still drive by and take the time to look at it and remember when it was ours.
❤️❤️❤️
Love your reflections and can feel the joy and sadness all at the same time. Comfort and strength to lives built amongst the familiar and the new. Thank you for sharing.
This is so beautiful. I feel like I want you to print it out and secretly bury it in their garden for the next family to find one day.
(but in a way that’s not creepy, obvs!)
Also I hadn’t read your grief diary before ❤️ Sitting here having a cry. What a beautiful tribute. I was particularly moved by three of the photos: the picture where you can see your dad’s bare feet; the picture of him as a handsome young man (of course!); and the photo of little tiny Asha with him. As the parent who’s closest to the “dad” role in my daughter’s life (and given how close in age she is to the age you were), that was the one that finally brought me to tears. Thinking of you and he tonight xxx
(and yes, I am sporadically catching up on old posts I’d missed!) XxM