In October of 2013, I traveled from Utah back to the homeland in central Pennsylvania to bury my mother.
Thanksgiving night, 2018: a long-awaited and expected phone call from my brother letting me know my father had passed away after a long and painful battle with cancer.
I’ll be returning to Pennsylvania once again within the next week to bury him next to my mother.
My relationship with my father has been a strange one (see HERE), but now the physical relationship is over, and I’m left with the emotional stuff to unpack and organize, to deal with, to decide what to keep and what to trash.
Not unlike going through a person’s material possessions.
This is not a fun process. At all.
And it is nothing like what I expected.