It is really hard to lose a parent; we are never ready. I lost my last parent yesterday. As most of my readers know, I lost my Dad at the end of February. He and my step-mom were living at home (with help). They were the sweetest couple. My Dad had A LOT of trouble getting around—it took him a LONG time to get from place to place with his walker. But, every time he FINALLY got to the living room, where Helen (my step-mom) would be sitting on the couch, he would come over and give her a kiss. She’d say, “I think I’ll have another” every time. They would always hold hands and sit by each other. I think this is the last picture I took of them together. (Notice their hands?)
Helen helped me so much when my Mom died. Things were really tense between my step-dad and our family. He kept everything that belonged to my Mom along with the things my Mom had inherited from my grandparents—things of a sentimental nature, not of much monetary value. My sister and I ended up with no physical remembrance from my Mom or my grandparents. I remember going to Dad and Helen’s after I had spoken to my step-dad about those sentimental things. It was a very difficult situation. Helen cried with me and comforted me. There was never any doubt that she loved me and my family. She was Grandma Helen to my kids and Grandma Helen to my grandchildren. She was always there for me—for us. She was special.