Life lesson

I have it made up in my mind that my parents will be around as long as I am. They’ll stop aging at 70 and I’ll always be able to pick up the phone and hear their voices on the other end. Then reality sends a reminder.

The pain on my cousins’ faces as we buried their father’s ashes, my uncle, was torture. He passed away a few months ago and now with schedules coordinated, they had to relive his death one more time as the entire family gathered for the ceremony. In true Swedish form, there was no dramatic crying but you could feel the sorrow.

We later made it a festive evening because as my aunt said, my uncle would not appreciate us feeling sorry for him. Nobody cooked, food was catered, and wine glasses were refilled well into the night.

How lucky I feel to have known my uncle as well as I did. How lucky I am to still have my dad.