My aunt Millie (Dad’s sister) died in Oregon, 3 months short of her 100th birthday. Dad, who was 91, was on the next morning’s flight from California to Oregon–alone. To backtrack–
My husband and I were in California for my high school reunion. I stayed on after the pre-reunion dinner while my husband drove my dad and a classmate’s 98-year-old mother back to where they were staying. They were met by news of Aunt Millie’s death.
My husband, a man of responsible action, immediately made a plane reservation for Dad to fly to Oregon to join his family the next morning. Dad had already begun packing his small case by the time I came in.
While that seemed logical to us, it astonished our friends. They were aghast at the fact we were “letting” Dad fly by himself at his age. We never gave it a second thought. Were we in denial?
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