This week I received an email that my father's mother had passed away. I'm wondering if I should be sad, but I don't feel anything. I had only met her once or twice. Bertha wasn't even on the outermost fringes of my life, much less in my life. My dad was raised by his grandmother in Iowa and considered Grandma to be his mother.
This topic of conversation about my dad going to Iowa for this funeral have been discussed many times over the years without an ending. Until now. In his words, "I won't be going. I realize all this might sound cold to you, but that's just the way it is and it's better left alone." I encouraged him to go, but this is the response that I got. I fear that he will regret his decision later, but it's too late now.
The obituary, easily found on the Internet, was very sad. No family listed, visitation to be held an hour before the service, memorials to be given to the Humane Society. At this writing, the funeral has been completed and she's either already buried or waiting for the ground to thaw...without anyone from her oldest son's family in attendance.