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Sweet People,
I miss seeing you all in person and I hope you are keeping well.
My stepfather, John passed away this week. He had Parkinson's disease.
After months of lockdown due to COVID, my mom was finally able to get in to see him the night before he passed. She said even though he was comatose, she just spoke to him for an hour. Hearing is the last sense to go.
He was not in pain. They had him on morphine. My belief is that he made the decision to let go.
Still, the feeling of loss is overwhelming. I can't go visit my mom and be with her. The normal ways we would gather and look for acceptance around John's death are not available during this time.
I know so many people have lost loved ones over the last few months; if that is you, I see you and I grieve with you.
I wrote something earlier this week to begin honoring John's life:
John: the gentlest soul I have ever met. He brought calm with him into every situation. The root of his last name, piacere, means “pleasure” in Italian. His name was a perfect fit; he was literally a pleasure to be around. A builder, a master woodworker, a killer cook of Italian food. He loved Bill Bryson books, Ray Charles, the Red Sox, musical theater and colorful clothes. He always looked sharp. I don’t like saying “was”; it makes no sense. Why is he not here?
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