ever since the last 'peak' day related to my father's death, i've been kicking back, relaxing. i find little surges of denial appearing every now and then. i needed a phone number that i knew he would know and had a thought of calling him, until it hit me that i couldn't do that. i couldn't do that for the last 3.5 years he was alive, actually. that got me to thinking of my moms 'address book.
i used to love looking through that book. it was abt 10" long and 5" wide, made of japanese silk. it had addresses and changes of addresses from years back. it was easy to trace the journey's different people took, including my own. i had abt 5 entries in my mom's address book, starting with moves during college. i have so many of her things, but not that. it was probably thrown out. sad to think about.
i did come across a file folder my brother had sent me some time back. it had carbon copies of dozens of letters my mother wrote to friends and relatives while we were in india. seeing the family through her eyes was fascinating. it was like hearing her voice tell me stories i'd only guessed about previously. some were from my dad, and they were of a far more practical nature. he covered the 'who, what and where' details, her the 'why's, if's' and relational aspects.
i thought i'd done a good job of asking questions of my parents prior to their deaths, but now there is so much more i wish i knew. i don't even know the story of where/when they met.....