I assume a number of us still have our parents alive and have are own children as well. We hope the latter outlive us, while wishing our parents live forever. Of course it doesn't work that way.
I'm from New York, live in the SF Bay Area. My Mom is dying. I go home this weekend to say goodbye.
My Dad, 83, has been saying his for a few weeks, recounting their early courtship days. The time they dove off the dam and her engagement ring slipped off her finger. Down and down they went, chasing the ring deep into the reservoir. They thought their lungs would burst coming to the surface.
They had the ring.
Stay the course, men (and the few lovelies that visit our site). I'll be singing in my mother's ear- it's the Irish in me- a song she often sang in my childhood, as she did her household chores.
The old Doris Day chestnut, Que Sera, Sera, from Hitchcock's flick.
It's as fitting as any.
Whatever will be, will be.
Thanks, 'tulipers.
I'm from New York, live in the SF Bay Area. My Mom is dying. I go home this weekend to say goodbye.
My Dad, 83, has been saying his for a few weeks, recounting their early courtship days. The time they dove off the dam and her engagement ring slipped off her finger. Down and down they went, chasing the ring deep into the reservoir. They thought their lungs would burst coming to the surface.
They had the ring.
Stay the course, men (and the few lovelies that visit our site). I'll be singing in my mother's ear- it's the Irish in me- a song she often sang in my childhood, as she did her household chores.
The old Doris Day chestnut, Que Sera, Sera, from Hitchcock's flick.
It's as fitting as any.
Whatever will be, will be.
Thanks, 'tulipers.
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