It would be the day I went to see my parents who shared a room in a Care Centre and because I’m such an incredibly interesting person, they both fell asleep. It was time for me to go, and I decided not to wake them. I didn’t say goodbye. I just walked away and left them. I could have gone back the next morning before I left to drive to the airport, but I was rushed and I didn’t. Mom passed away a few days later.
I have always hated to say goodbye, but if I could go back and relive that day I would just suck it up and do it. I’d turn myself around and walk back to both of them and nudge them awake and say the things I should have said and not be such a blubbering sobbing mess all this time later just thinking about it.
Gawd. Maybe that’s not the greatest day to relive. Last Wednesday when I went to see Toy Story 3 with my nine-year-old granddaughter. That was a good day. I think I’ll opt for that one instead. Although I ended up crying at the end of the movie when Andy said good-bye to his toys, so maybe we could just skip that part. And maybe add some extra butter on the popcorn.