My mother and her sister had very little in common. So when they agreed on something/anything, it got my attention.
Sally and I visited my Aunt Jean in Columbus every other week during her last year of her life. At least once during each visit she would note that she had outlived both of her parents. That was important to her. I never mentioned this to my mother. Fast forward 8 or 9 years later and my mother would always find a way to include in our phone conversations that she had not only outlived her parents, but that she had even surpassed her sister. It was the contest she was born to win.
My father died on August 2, 1994, one month and two days prior to his 69th birthday. So we can safely round up to 69. And I am about to turn 69 on February 4th. I have no idea what my father thought of such things. I don’t think we ever had a serious conversation about anything. But I can hear Aunt Jean and my mother. I don’t feel like celebrating. I don’t feel guilty. This is just a moment, the time that I turn 69 years old and officially outlive my father.
I hope to put this moment behind me. What I have done during my life may have some value. I certainly appreciate my longevity, but I’m not ready to take a victory lap.
Picture – Just A Day In Ohio In February 2024 – David L Cunix