In-between

January 3 marks an in-between date for me. A date halfway between my father's death and his wife, Sandy's death. He of cancer, she of a freakish horseback riding accident. Nonetheless, it was quite a shock to lose them both within ten weeks of each other. My siblings and I expected Dad's death. Cancer has a way to infiltrating your life whether you want it to or not. We didn't; it did. End of story. End of life.

Sandy, on the other hand, was out riding her horse as she had done many, many, many times before. No one will ever know exactly what happened or why, but we know Sandy died doing what she loved most in life. It doesn't make her death any easier, by any means.

In the end Dad didn't have it so good. The cancer robbed him of life, slowly and sadly. He did, however, have a chance to say good bye to his brother and sister-in-law, eleven children -- his seven children, her four and many, many grandchildren, two great-grandchildren.

In the end Sandy didn't have it so good. Though she died doing what she loved, she did not have the opportunity to say good-bye. That was sad for the children and family members, but fortunately, we had each other.

So, here as January 3 approaches, I remember them ... their zest for life ... family ... each other.

Dad and Sandy side by side

Bickering, teasing, reading

Side by side reside