Aug. 15, 2007 - 22:22 MDT

THOSE WERE THE DAYS

When we were young and life was forever. Mumps and measles had their way with us. Chicken pox and scarlet fever too. But none of it put us in a box.

Oh we heard of someone losing a grandfather or other relative, I think in my youth I heard of two such things.

But time stretched ahead into the infinite distance, to be lived happily.

Then there came a time when Heather became pregnant and before I had quite grown to full maturity, my Mom died. Then came the realization that Death is the end to us all. Hard to cope with, but cope one does.

Heather's oldest brother drowned, Heather's little sister taken by cancer, Heather's Mom also taken by cancer. Heather's Dad, diabetes and old age. Myself ? My Mother's mother taken by colon cancer and then my Dad at age 80 consequences of a stroke took him away.

Reluctant orphans we are, and in the process of all to often going to funeral services, one was our youngest son, taken by cancer. And a long procession of relatives, in-laws and classmates of Heather and her younger brother.

We attended a funeral today of a classmate of Heather's. Her "Lunch Bunch" as they called themselves starting in Junior High has dwindled to half now, and some of them live in other states.

We are very fortunate that we have our nuclear family and their mates and progeny. Makes a pretty big family for Heather and I, precious every one of them.

But we grieve for ouselves when people leave us -- not for them, but for ouselves - - trying to figure out how to get along without ones we love.

Ah, well, this old man has had a long, long day -- we went across to the east side of the metro area early this morning to pick up a classmate of Heather's and thence west to Golden to the funeral services for a classmate of theirs. Back then to the east side of the area, having lunch at a favorite place near where Heather's friend lives, then took the lady home.

We had planned our late day to go further east to DIA and get our tickets for a trip to our Daughter's in Eugene, Oregon. And we did. Found a decent place to park and then a snag in the ticket line. One agent in ticketing, who had a group of people who didn't speak English. I can't believe the amount of time it took before Heather and I got to the agent. After that was taken care of we headed home -- right in the middle of the rushiest part of the rush hour. I-70 was creeping, so we zigged north and slogged away on low speed streets.

Heh, seems like the older we get the more complicated things manage to be.

So tonight, tired and bedraggled, my friend, I sing the song THOSE WERE THE DAYS . . . . . . .

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