The Dutchman

 

You know of course that we lost both our parents four days apart over New Years. They were 87 and 89 and had a good life together, raised us, loved us and all the grandbabies and great grandbabies, and left their mark on the world in many ways. 

They never stopped doing and loving and living right up until the end. 

Covid made that end dark and lonely, something which is very hard to forgive at all, ever. Bad things were done and happened that I am not going to talk about here, but they sure should not keep families apart at such times. 

Anyhow, more than they loved all of us, they loved each other. They were more entwined than anyone I knew...utterly dependent on one another. If one was in the hospital the other pined and did all they could to fix things if they could. They never went anywhere without each other, shared hobbies and pastimes and work and play.

Mom was so damned strong that it humbled me. She simply did everything she could to make life right for Dad. She taught me to go after what was needed no matter how hard it might have been to ask.  He knew that he needed her and just how much and acted accordingly. I hope they are rewarded in Heaven for what they went through in their final weeks.

When they went it was as if the center shifted and the light went off in the world. I had them sixty-eight years, my whole life, and it wasn’t nearly enough.

But for three months I never cried. Not a tear, no dampness in the corner of the eye. Numbness and mournful malaise for sure but no tears. 

Then one day I was listening to the High Kings perform the Dutchman on my cell phone playlist, while I washed the dishes. 

Margaret and the Dutchman seemed to personify my parents’ relationship and the way they propped each other up and cherished each other for so many years.

I looked up at their pictures on the wall over the stove and started crying and couldn’t stop. The rest of that day was a melting watercolor of every loss I’ve ever felt, especially over the past 18 months.

Okay, everybody needs that. Good, maybe I will move on now.

Except that every single time I hear the song, no matter how determined I am to not react I do. Same way every time.

Many probably see me as a hard person. Or at least stoic. Farming can bring on the hard, all the while softening the center where no one sees. It certainly fosters stoicism. You just get used to things happening that you can’t control and learn to roll with it and just move on.

However, that song absolutely dissolves me right down to nothing every single time I hear it.

Should I take if off my playlist and harden the old shell, or leave it there on shuffle to sneak up on me with its reminders of all that is missing? 

We lost so many close family members, beloved aunts, an amazing uncle, good friends from all over the world in the past few months……I just don’t know.