Thank You, my friends. I feel somewhat unworthy of the attention, especially as many of you have quietly had your own similar experiences unnoted here and some have recently suffered losses greater than my own.
I told a hundred people this morning, I had made my peace with the loss. My mother was barely making it last week but for some reason she would not let anyone paint her fingernails, which she loved to have painted. I got the brightest red color my wife had and went to the nursing home and told her I was going to paint her nails no arguments. She weakly held out her hand and a burly, graying ex forest ranger, wildland forest fire fighter, elk hunter,cave explorer, canoe paddler and Buck knife collector painted the first fingernails of his life.
I did my best imitation of gals I have watched in person and on TV, even blowing on each finger till it dried enough to go on to the next. It was not perfect but I think it wasn't bad. I pronounced it done and looked up to a mothers smile you see when they look down on their new born baby. We said our goodbyes right then, without words, eye to eye.
I now have to live a decent mans life no matter the consequences, for my mother will now be sitting on one shoulder with my father and read my every thought and know my every action. I think he was cutting me some slack but he will now have to straighten up.
Our people that die ahead of us prepare us to go on living. She did her best and it was good enough. I will shed my tears a little at a time, in duck blinds, deer forests, at sunsets and when sun glints off rippling water. For now I go ahead and live life with my head up, knowing my successful and decent living will be her greatest testimony and also a major testimony of my faith.
Thanks all for your kind and Holy words that my knife buddy Hawkeye got going,
300Bucks, Craig H.
