Coping

Since I proposed to my Fiance Suzanne, life has been good. Very good, in fact. Living with Suzanne and doing all the couple-y thing we do is quite nice. We have bought a house and we like it very much.

What comes along with sharing a life with someone often includes new relatives, commonly called "The In-laws". In a lot of cases these in-laws cause a lot of strife if so-and-so's uncle does not like you. This happens so much that Hollywood has made many movies about in-laws that are so difficult that one would rather poke oneself in the eye with a rusty pitch fork than deal with.

Fortunately, my soon-to-be-inlaws could be more pleasant and more-over interesting.

There is Suzy's Mom, Georgia who is the sweetest, most doting things since my own Mom. There is Reeve, Suzy's Dad who is a tough cookie. He sails (quite well) and plays handball and is good enough that he can give pros a good game. He's very adventurous and they (Georgia and Reeve) routinely go camping and traveling.

The is Walt, Reeve's brother who despite not so great health, still goes sailing up and down the West Coast with Reeve. There a host of others who's relationship, I am a little fuzzy on the details so I will not embarrass myself with botching them.

One of the more notable, or at least more memorable is Aunt Macia, Reeve's sister. She is a mathematician and is quite nice. Unfortunately she is dying from terminal cancer.

It is unlikely she will live till the end of the year and as the case with these really aggressive metastatic cancer, there is little that can be done. It is no longer a matter of mustering the will to fight like the dickens to beat the cancer. It has already won. It's just a matter of maintaining dignity and making Marcia comfortable.

Reeve is understandably, struggling with this one. This clearly is tearing him up inside. I can see it even when he desperately tries to hide it. I really feel for him.

This ugly, somber process brings me back to how my parents left this world. The ordeal of fighting everyone to be allowed to let my father pass with what little dignity he had left along with having to take care of my Mom with Alzheimer's at the same time and then having to deal with my own Mother's less than dignified passing, really taught me a harsh, harsh lesson. I am infinitely stronger as a result of it.

But, 7 years later, I still miss my Dad very much. There have been so many times where I was struggling on what to do and I found myself wishing I could ask my Dad.
My Mom's passing was easier (if the passing of one's mother could be) for a number of reasons: I was at least in control and could take care of her, I had already dealt with one death of a parent and my Mom was essentially lost to me long ago as a result of the Alzheimer's.

Since their passing, I have taken up certain things as a way to remember and honor my parents. I learned how to machine and to refer to Dad's teachings. I've learned how to cook Persian food.