Winter of His Life

I don’t know how I ever lived somewhere that didn’t have changing seasons. Growing up in Arizona I never saw the fall leaves or the winter white blanket of snow. It was either really nice out or just too damn hot. At Christmas time we would use spray-on “snow” for our window sills and of course here in the Midwest we have plenty of the real stuff.

The transformation from Winter to Spring is even more bittersweet with my 90-year-old Dad living with us.


This truly is the Winter of his life, the slowing down and shedding of ambitions and thoughts. Last month my father lost both of his surviving siblings, his 94-year-old sister and his 96-year-old brother.

He told my mom, “Now I’m the only one left.”

Like my father, I didn’t shed any tears when I heard about their passing. I had only seen my aunt a few times when I was a child and we visited the small town where she and my Dad had grown up. And I don’t think I ever meet my father’s brother, except for possibly at a funeral I never committed to memory. I think the reason my Dad did not shed any tears was because he thought they were better off with no more suffering.

I have tried to imagine what my Dad feels like being “the only one left.”

He was such a force to be reckoned with when I was young. Always on the move selling something or buying something. I remember an acre full of bicycle parts and poodle puppies. He was so strong it was rumored that he lifted a car off the ground once. He raised four very different girls. He never had time for museums or parks. He fought in the second World War and had his own auto dealership. His life has indeed been long and filled with old-tyme songs and stories that he still recites.

dscn0579Now he shuffles more than walks, going from the bedroom to the bathroom and back again, during this long and cold Winter.

3 thoughts on “Winter of His Life

  1. Hi Georgia,

    I very much liked the posting about your father. I too have a father in his winter season who likes to remind us of he being the oldest of his family’s men ever. I’d love to hear more about some of the issues you raised like his last survivorship, his retrospective on life, how he feels living with you, Joe, and Max. Thanks for sharing.


  2. Thank your dad for me. At a time in my life when I needed help, he made a big difference. Maybe it was because he loves his daughter so much, but the reasons don’t matter to me as much as the result. I owe him for letting me get on my feet. He wasn’t the only reason that I moved from difficult times on to being very successful, but he sure added to it. He showed me the rewards for hard work in the brief time I helped him in his shop and he showed me how to love a family. Your post here was very touching and I want to make sure that he (and you) know that he touched many others in positive ways and I for one will never forget it.

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