So It Begins...

...for me and blogging anyway. This is my first. There are no plans to publish. It is not anticipated that this blog will be a driving force in the great debates of society and culture. There is no real agenda other than to explore the option of writing thoughts, perspectives and feelings and see what it might hold.

A recent Saturday was a work day at my parents house. My brother-in-law emerged from an arduous journey into one of the finer "crawl spaces" of my father's workshop. He was holding a ton of childhood memories contained in three lunch boxes. I'm certain he was not aware of his own strength. He was simply unaware of the massive weight of the memories he carried in those three lunch boxes.

My siblings and I are in the process of dismantling a wealth of heritage found in the "nooks and crannies" of my parents house. Although it is not our childhood home, it represents a lengthy tenure of our family history. My parents never lived any place longer than the house where the lunch boxes hid.

My father passed away in the days following Christmas, December 30, 2010 to be precise. This followed months of an emotional journey with his health. They were months filled with health care decisions and strategies to keep intact his self-esteem and dignity. He deserved as much.

My mother's death had come a couple of year's earlier. Her course was a protracted journey into the hidden world of dementia. The early days of her journey saw my father working feverishly to preserve her self-esteem and dignity. Then, after only a short time of obligatory resistance, my father ushered my siblings and me into their world, the world that until then was kept respectfully private.

It was time for my siblings and me to enter their world. My father was in need of the emotional support of the the exhausting journey of the care giver. I witnessed the truest living model  of the vows "in sickness and in health".

So...my blogging life begins with this brief narrative. I want it to establish a perspective for those who might read this and for myself. The death of both parents has caused me to become an "adult orphan". I use the term deliberately. It represents for me a milestone. . . a transition. . . a turning point. . . a weigh point. . . an anchor point. . .  a. . . well I guess I could try to use every thinkable euphemism to say that. . . I see endings. . . I also see beginnings.

So it begins. . .