Beautifully written and what a gut punch, in a good way. As someone whose parent also succumbed to Alzheimer’s, I keep thinking about the last time he was truly “with” us. The real dad, not the shell of a man who had lost his humor and self depreciating wit. When was the last dinner or phone call…
Absolutely wonderful. I wondered if I was the only person who thought like this. I always cried when distant relatives left after spending time with us. I wasn’t ever sure when I would see them again. I cry often for happy and sad events, for hellos and goodbyes. I often tell people don’t mind me I’m a cryer. But I’m glad I feel because I would hate myself if I didnt care. Thanks for the story.
Once again you have managed to bring both a tear and joy while reading this.
Your writing brings such emotion that most of us can feel as we read.
Thank you for sharing this story as I am sure that some of us in this demographic can appreciate having friends for so long.
As we age it does become important to have solid friendships and I question if the younger generations value this.
As I am about to leave for Australia next month, I look forward to seeing my friends of almost 40 years. Yes, it is a bit awkward the first couple minutes but then the friendship falls into place where it left off.
Once again, thank you for reminding us to cherish our friends because you never know when it may be the last visit or conversation.
Lovely writing, I hope you have many more last dinners with JoAnn. This brings to mind one of my own “lasts” that haunts me. On a snowy, cold day, I’d stopped by my mother’s senior living apartment to drop off some groceries on my way out of town for a weekend of work. It was getting dark, and I knew it would be a difficult drive up into the snowy hills where the weekend workshop I was teaching was taking place. She was sitting at her dining room table, slowly trying to organize her pill boxes for the week, looking a bit more confused than normal, and telling me how worried she was about a friend who was in the hospital. I was feeling anxious to get going and really didn’t have time to listen for very long. I left, arrived at the workshop safely, we all had a wonderful weekend. I phoned her when I got home, and we had such a nice chat that thought I might go visit and watch tv with her that evening, but I didn’t, I was exhausted, there would be another time. The next morning I woke to a series of increasingly urgent phone messages, she was in the hospital, not totally coherent and calling my name. Apparently her slow moving cancer had finally struck her brain and there was no recovery possible. I signed the “no-treatment” papers respecting her ironclad demand not to be sustained in any way. We spent he following week sitting by her hospice bedside instead of throwing the 95th birthday party we’d planned for her. There were many last moments that week, but the one I’ll remember the most is her sitting at her dining room table and silently willing me to stay with her longer that evening.
A wonderful story beautifully told! Thanks for sharing. And if you never heard it, check out the Brad Paisley song "A Last Time for Everything" that talks about those experiences. But so glad you have not had the last dinner at JoAnn's!
If I lived every day like it was my last, I would never go to the dentist or clean my bathroom or do my taxes. It's just not possible to live that way!
Hope you had a lovely Christmas! Thanks for introducing us to JoAnn.
Well, you made me cry (in a nice way) on Christmas morning. I'm so glad you are having a JoAnn Christmas this year. Wishing you the warmest, happiest of holidays. (FWIW, I sometimes think about the 'last time we'll be doing X' thing... it's such a poignant recognition.)
Beautifully written and what a gut punch, in a good way. As someone whose parent also succumbed to Alzheimer’s, I keep thinking about the last time he was truly “with” us. The real dad, not the shell of a man who had lost his humor and self depreciating wit. When was the last dinner or phone call…
Have a wonderful holiday!
Thank you! I'm sorry, yeah, that's a terrible journey.
Happy holidays to you too!
Absolutely wonderful. I wondered if I was the only person who thought like this. I always cried when distant relatives left after spending time with us. I wasn’t ever sure when I would see them again. I cry often for happy and sad events, for hellos and goodbyes. I often tell people don’t mind me I’m a cryer. But I’m glad I feel because I would hate myself if I didnt care. Thanks for the story.
You're very welcome! The Sentimental Club is a fine one to a part of!
Once again you have managed to bring both a tear and joy while reading this.
Your writing brings such emotion that most of us can feel as we read.
Thank you for sharing this story as I am sure that some of us in this demographic can appreciate having friends for so long.
As we age it does become important to have solid friendships and I question if the younger generations value this.
As I am about to leave for Australia next month, I look forward to seeing my friends of almost 40 years. Yes, it is a bit awkward the first couple minutes but then the friendship falls into place where it left off.
Once again, thank you for reminding us to cherish our friends because you never know when it may be the last visit or conversation.
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!
Thank you so much! Yes, old friends are some of the best friends. And it is often like riding a bicycle.
Merry Christmas to you too!
I got a little weepy too. What a brilliant piece of writing.
Aw thank you.
Lovely writing, I hope you have many more last dinners with JoAnn. This brings to mind one of my own “lasts” that haunts me. On a snowy, cold day, I’d stopped by my mother’s senior living apartment to drop off some groceries on my way out of town for a weekend of work. It was getting dark, and I knew it would be a difficult drive up into the snowy hills where the weekend workshop I was teaching was taking place. She was sitting at her dining room table, slowly trying to organize her pill boxes for the week, looking a bit more confused than normal, and telling me how worried she was about a friend who was in the hospital. I was feeling anxious to get going and really didn’t have time to listen for very long. I left, arrived at the workshop safely, we all had a wonderful weekend. I phoned her when I got home, and we had such a nice chat that thought I might go visit and watch tv with her that evening, but I didn’t, I was exhausted, there would be another time. The next morning I woke to a series of increasingly urgent phone messages, she was in the hospital, not totally coherent and calling my name. Apparently her slow moving cancer had finally struck her brain and there was no recovery possible. I signed the “no-treatment” papers respecting her ironclad demand not to be sustained in any way. We spent he following week sitting by her hospice bedside instead of throwing the 95th birthday party we’d planned for her. There were many last moments that week, but the one I’ll remember the most is her sitting at her dining room table and silently willing me to stay with her longer that evening.
Oh, how touching. Life has so many of these bittersweet moments, doesn't it? And they alternative between more bitter and more sweet.
I hope you have happy holiday regardless.
And happy holidays to you both too. Whoever said that the bitter makes the sweet sweeter, was right. ❤️💔
A wonderful story beautifully told! Thanks for sharing. And if you never heard it, check out the Brad Paisley song "A Last Time for Everything" that talks about those experiences. But so glad you have not had the last dinner at JoAnn's!
thank you! Oh, I like the title, I'll check it out.
Having lost my mom last month, this really struck a chord. Thank you and enjoy your JoAnn Christmas! 🙏🏻❤️
Oh, i"m so sorry...
I already love JoAnn and what she demonstrated to you over the years about how life can be. You inherited her spirit of adventure, no doubt.
She's impossible not to like!
This brought tears to my eyes. Great story.
Thank you!
This was so lovely and touching. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you for saying so!
Lovely- Heartfelt article … thank you for this holiday time piece . I enjoyed it
Thank you! Appreciate that.
I love this tribute to long-term friendship, to tradition, and also to change, which is of course inevitable. Bitter Sweet and beautiful.
Thank you so much!
If I lived every day like it was my last, I would never go to the dentist or clean my bathroom or do my taxes. It's just not possible to live that way!
Hope you had a lovely Christmas! Thanks for introducing us to JoAnn.
haha oh yeah, we're in perfect agreement! hehe
Happy holidays to you as well...
That JoAnn sounds like a sassy queen. We love a sassy queen!
Hahaha, that is exactly what she is! You'd love her.
A lovely memory to read early Christmas morning with a thunderstorm lighting up the predawn sky. Thank you.
Thank you. And wow, that sounds dramatic!
Well, you made me cry (in a nice way) on Christmas morning. I'm so glad you are having a JoAnn Christmas this year. Wishing you the warmest, happiest of holidays. (FWIW, I sometimes think about the 'last time we'll be doing X' thing... it's such a poignant recognition.)
🙂🙂🙂❤️
To you as well, Melissa! Have some gluhwein for us!
Dear Lord, this hit me. I so love that you get to break out the Christmas table cloth again this year! 😃🎄
Thanks Mike! ❤️❤️❤️