It goes so fast...

I lost my father this fall. I have been wanting to write about this but had not been ready before. We were mutually each others biggest fans. He was 91 when he died and he had still been living at his home with his dog Max.

He was ready to go.

Two years earlier when he was 89,  I asked him if he was afraid of dying. At that time he told me that no he was not afraid and that he had had a great life. He said that he did not have any regrets but it was just shocking how quick it had all gone by. Gosh, even after 89 years the fullest of lives in retrospect are over quick. Who knew? Isn't this mortal life so strange? It seems that only since my father has been gone that I am actually aware on a regular basis that I am mortal. Before this I have been always affected by death but still surprised every single time it happened to anyone I knew even if they were old or sick. What kind of denial is that? I think that is pretty typical in this culture and more typical then anywhere else in the world. Americans don't die. Did you ever see the movie Harold and Maude. Maude liked to go to funerals because they are intense. I resonated with that.