Larry -

Your circumstances sound all too familiar. My dad (WWII vet) died from prostate cancer that matasticized to bone cancer after fighting it for several years. The end wasn't pretty, but when I knew it was a matter of hours, I found myself pushing the morphine delivery button as frequently as the apparatus would allow.... in hopes of hastening the inevitable. I had mixed feelings about that for a few days, but I think it was the right thing to do - at least for me. The man taught me more than I can remember.... guns, hunting, engines, baseball.... you name it, he knew a little about everything and a lot about nothing.... and inspired me to become just like him - maybe a good thing, maybe not. All I know is that the memories of trying to carry his tool box for him..... or the hours of him catching by curve, slider and fastball were some of the happiest days of my life. I still would love to carry that tool box for him one more time.

My mother's death followed within 2 years.... pneumonia, with diabetic complications. While I never completely understood her, I do remember that she took me to every Little League ball game I ever played.... and stayed and cheered for our team the entire game.

I think most of us go through good and not-so-good times with our parents.... and as a result, a great many things go unsaid and unsettled until it's too late. The burden of that is left with the living in the form of guilt generated by sadness. AFAIK, there is no cure.

The memory of a parent never goes away - particularly one who was a friend. The pain never quits....... but it does get better with time. There is never a day that I don't think about my parents - sometimes at the strangest moments - because something - a smell, a sound, a voice - reminds me of one of them.

After my father died, I didn't erase his answering machine for weeks, because I wanted to hear his voice. Eventually, I realized that wasn't going to help and went about sorting through his possessions. Some of his more unique tools found their way into my toolbox <img src="/forums/images/graemlins/wink.gif" alt="" /> and I can say that was the very best tonic I prescribed for myself. Every time I use one of his tools that resolves a problem or makes it easier to complete, I carefully clean the tool before putting it away and say "Thanks, Daddy".

I've also found myself talking with my parents when I'm alone on a clear cold night outside. Whether a person believes in Heaven or not, there's something peaceful about imagining that there is a better place for one's spirit to reside - although in truth, one's spirit is probably what is left behind on Earth to guide future generations.

For now, you're in a phase that must be gone through to begin to heal emotionally. One day - maybe a month, maybe a couple of years from now - you'll begin to cry uncontrollably and without shame. When that's finished, you'll start feeling a little better - not all at once, but a little at a time. But - you will never forget - nor should you. The experience will have the effect of changing the way you view life and those around you. Everything will have more meaning and the things of importance will become easier to identify.

Best wishes,
Frank