Remembering to Forget

On June 18, 1913 my mother was born; she died on July 4, 1996. God was merciful to her, and to my father who died in 1978,  in that they died quickly – without enduring the pain many others suffer as they decline.   

The Spanish have a proverb, “Sudden death is God’s kiss upon the soul.” Perhaps it is so for the one dying – not so much for the ones they leave behind. Death overtook my parents before we could reconcile our differences.  Death closed a door; I was left with thoughts and memories I thought would shortly be sorted out. 

We think we have time; often we do. I did not.

 Today, readers, if you can bury the hatchet, do it. And do not make a map of how to get back to it.