Once again I pause to mark with sorrow the anniversary of the death of my mother, Alison Calder Pollack, a truly extraordinary woman who left us two years ago today.
Time softens grief’s sting, but not its ache.
Once again I pause to mark with sorrow the anniversary of the death of my mother, Alison Calder Pollack, a truly extraordinary woman who left us two years ago today.
Time softens grief’s sting, but not its ache.
11 Comments
Malcolm,
I am somewhat surprised in a serendipitous kinda way. I was not going to comment but when I read Bill V’s comment about your fondness for Zappa, well.
Thankfully my own Mom is still in the world and loved, and she remains loving. She shared with your Mom the year of birth. Her marriage likewise was in ’54 and it seems I am about two months older than you. My father graduated medical school in ’58., and did his internship and residency in the military.
You didn’t mention exactly when you achieved your GED but I took the test for mine in October of ’75 having previously found that I was “too cool for school.” That has some bit of irony since it seems that I have spent the greater part of my post military life in or lurking around campuses scattered about the US.
I don’t know that you ever experienced this but for several years after my father died, whenever I had the too frequent occasion to have stepped (figuratively) in dog poop, my first reaction was to dial my father’s phone number.
I once found myself playing billiards in a small Louisiana village and was whisked back in time by the elderly gentleman who was my “opponent” (Dad always kept a snooker table). Tears came unbidden to my eyes. The old man asked me “What’s wrong, son?” I replied, “I miss my dad.”
The old man said, “Son, I am eighty years old and I still miss my Dad.”
I don’t know that this helps Malcolm, I mean it to.
JK
Thanks, JK. It does help.
Too cool for school – that was me too. It was about 1974. After having been skipped ahead two grades, then being told I couldn’t graduate after all because I hadn’t enough credits (this after having taken honors courses, and an English seminar at Princeton, during my “senior” year), I was thoroughly disgusted, and dropped out. (I had plans to be a big rock star at the time anyway.)
So I’ve spent the rest of my life as an autodidact.
Malcolm – Yeah, the ache persists. The loss of a loved one leaves a hole in your soul that’s the wrong shape to be filled by anything else. Cherish that ache.
Thanks, Bob. I guess I’ll have to.
M,
I never knew my grandparents on either side of the family, and have never really been that close to my various uncles, aunts, and cousins in America and Korea (save two: my mother’s big sister in Texas and my great aunt in Korea). I still have both of my parents with me, and can’t say I’ve suffered much personal loss. There was one lady, though, who took the role of grandmother to me when I was a child, and when she passed away I felt — and still feel — the emptiness to which Bob so eloquently makes reference above.
All of which is my awkward attempt at expressing my sympathy. Condolences, Malcolm.
Kevin
Thanks Kevin! I’m fine, of course; it’s just sad.
We’re all sharing sad thoughts at Alison’s so conspicuous absence. How I miss her humourous and sometimes caustic comments and the way she made so little of her problems as she ‘didn’t want to be boring’.
Love from Mike and me
Shiena
Thinking of you
missing Alison too
Shiena and Mike
Shiena and Mike,
Thanks. It’s good to hear from you; I know you miss her very much also. Alas, what can we do?
I hope you are well…
Love, M
Parting with loved ones is never easy. When it is final it can wreck us. I too miss my mom, who passed a year earlier than yours. Your being at her service with Nina was a great comfort to me at that time.
We all get through these pains as we are able, with a little help from our friends…
Hang in there bro!! Know my heart ( and many others too)…goes out to ya on this tuff day to get through without a tear…
soon-Pat
Thanks, Pat.