My father passed away three weeks ago.
He was lying in bed, I was holding his hand, and he just .........................stopped breathing. We called the nurse, who got her stethescope and said that yes, he had passed.
My brother, sister and I were all there in the room with him. We had a group hug and shed a few tears. We hung out with my dad's mortal remains, as the retirement home staff came and went.
Someone offered some food and, although we didn't feel hungry, when the food came, we ate. Maybe it gave us a distraction. Something to do besides dwell on the immediate issue.
My dad was a planner. We knew already that he'd made plans for the funeral arrangements for my late mom and himself. No muss, no fuss; everything figured out ahead of time, including his wishes.
At the funeral home the next day, I got a call from a dear old friend. She offered her condolences. I remember very well when her dad passed away, and the letter I wrote to her. And her telling me of the comfort the letter gave her.
She told me I'd joined a unique club. And I knew what she meant - the Adult Orphan. I said I understood her point of view, but just didn't think that way.
Later, my brother and I talked about it. I felt, in some way, that Adult Orphans were making themselves into victims. I\m an adult, lived away from my parents since I was 21 and made my own decisions. Sure, they shored me up when I had problems.
But I perceived myself as an adult, and not a victim.
I don't mean to minimize the grief others may feel when their parents pass on, at whatever age or circumstance. And it's not that I wouldn't want my dad back, if his health was good. Ditto for my mom.
I'm a thinking, rational, independent person. And I'm not an orphan.
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