Today I was cleaning up some of my digital life and while I was adjusting things on Twitter (which I will confess I am not too savvy about tweeting) and I saw a tweet about a new song (Don’t Let Her Be Gone) from an artist that I saw a few years ago on The Voice. It was a song about how he almost lost his life and his wife was in danger of leaving this world all because of a drunk driver. It struck me odd that I didn’t focus on the addiction that caused the accident or even that he almost lost the one that was most precious here on earth to him, I focused completely on me and the fact that I am watching my parents age and most especially my mom and my first thought was, don’t let them go I am not ready.
My mother and I have a sometimes contentious, sometimes loving, sometimes frustrating relationship. The way that she raised me most definitely could have landed me on Oprah explaining why I have a difficult time showing empathy, or why I ignore health issues till they are in life threatening mode. I could have been on the therapist couch discovering why I was never quite good enough, but praise God she did love me enough that in adulthood I am able to correct those faults and issues while trying to patiently lead her to the answers she didn’t get herself.
I am an only child and lately the evidence that my parents will not be here forever has become glaringly apparent and a bit frightening. My mom is not as sharp as she used to be and she is shrinking before my eyes. Her abilities are disappearing and my patience with her at times grows thin. My father, at 82, still works full time as an aerospace engineer, so it is not so easily seen that he too is ageing and will not always be here.
So when I saw that headline for a tweet that I might not normally place too much weight, my thoughts ran to a place that even now leaves me choking up when realizing that one day soon I will utter the phrase, “Don’t Let Them Be Gone!”