When I was a teenager in the late 80's and early 90's, baggy clothes that were too big and didn't really fit were the fashion style. My dad was happy to give me sweaters and sweatshirts he no longer wanted, and I appreciated the extra wardrobe. In the 30 years since I had donated most of them as Dad didn't want them back, but I did keep one sweater I had purchased for him at Christmas one year. After he passed away, Robert received a few of his clothes, some were given to other family members, and most were donated. However, his last Christmas, dad had asked for a flannel shirt, and we had given him one. After he passed away, I brought that flannel shirt home, but hadn't worn it since just a few weeks after he died. I remember putting it on that day and feeling like my dad was hugging me.
Last evening Andrew, Robert, and I attended the funeral visitation for our church member John. We spent some minutes visiting with his daughters, and then spoke with his wife. She mentioned how he had suffered so at the end and at 99, he'd had a good life. She would miss him, but she wasn't sad he was no longer suffering.
I completely understand what she meant, even though Dad was 40 years younger when he passed away. It is so hard to watch loved ones suffering, regardless of the age. I understood the peace that comes with the passing of one who has suffered. When I got home from the funeral home and wanted to change clothes, I put on my dad's shirt. It was so soft and comfortable, and in many way, comforting. I'm grateful for my memories, both tangible and those in my head.
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