Papa died on Friday, October 3rd, at the age of 93. That night, while I dreamed of he and Nana holding hands in heaven, Antonia dreamed of them on an airplane, reunited with friends also passed. While there is some peace knowing that he is no longer in any pain, that he is no longer lonely, nor heartbroken, for those of us left behind, especially my poor father, the prospect of life without them is very hard. I dread that next visit to England. The A1 always seemed to be made to take us to them and last time we were there, knowing Nana was not on the other side made the journey so terrible. Today, the A1 serves me no purpose and while it might take us to a land of memories and shadows, I know where Nana and Papa are, and I can only smile that they are together. We love you, Papa. I know you are better there than here, but we miss you so very much.
"If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day, so I never have to live without you." Winnie the Pooh
0 comments:
Post a Comment