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I was mature. Told my dad it was okay to go and we would take care of mom. He died peacefully within moments. That was 26 years ago. Today, I would say “You FIGHT this shit because I want you here for even just one day more!”. How much longer could we have had?

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my mother who brought me out of Russia died 12-18-2018, and i had this incredible premonition i could not fathom and contemplate properly, that something was coming, which i should have been able to foresee, and i just felt blind. Now we saw that is the scamdemic.

i finally got to spend two hours with my mother after she died, before they cremated her, which i was forced to allow them eventually to do, for money reasons at the time.

the last time i'd seen her alive she screamed at me for two days, and i had to leave

the last time i spoke to her, she asked me if i loved her, and i couldn't admit then i did, although i had many times said so. she said it's okay, she understood

i finally stopped being ashamed of her only after she died

a neighbor told me she had said to him, never to me,

about how she begged in France to bring us to america, at the consolate

she'd go in Paris to the consulate and beg and cry and make a big scene, every day for months, and they denied her entry for us to americurse

finally they caved, but i am sure the experience caused her the sort of problems that neither of us ever found a way to bridge and have any relationship survive thereafter

i think ameriker is a big rotten stinkin lie

my mother brought me, again per the neighbor, after reading in Russian in Russia the Gulag Archipelago, when it was not available yet to the public, she told the neighbor,

and that drove her crazy and she had to leave

little could she understand she was bringing us out of Russia, and into the real gulag, americer

land of the free, free of the home

land of the hacksxxxxxine, to kill everyone

i just posted some new old material on youtube.

it may get my channel turned off, but if so what good was it?

hard as hell

blessings

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May 6, 2022·edited May 6, 2022

I am coming up on the anniversary of my mothers passing, a year ago on Mothers Day. I was not able to be with her in the room at the skilled nursing facility as she was under a 14 day quarantine, coming from the hospital to the skilled nursing facility because of the Covid madness, and we could not go into the facility.

I had to see her the morning of Mother’s Day when she passed, through a sliding glass door, talking to her on the phone. She was too weak and could not come to the door even in a wheelchair. I told her that I loved her, and said every family members name, that they all loved her, and said if she wanted to go see my Dad, (her husband of 30 + years who passed away in 1982) and my Grandparents (her Mom & Dad) to go. She passed away within minutes after I left.

I had known she was dying when she first entered the hospital a few weeks before. She was having these ‘veiled’ conversations with me that indicated she was on ‘the way out’.

I had my two siblings and her two granddaughters visit her in the hospital (as you could then go into a hospital wearing a mask to visit the patient), as I knew she was not long for this earthly plane. The last day I was able to physically see her, touch her, and be in the same room with her was Saturday April 24th.

I know you are not of fan of the “letting people go” practice when they are dying, but it is extremely important for both the dying as well as you. By doing this , you give yourself permission for them to go as well as them permission to transition to the next phase of their soul’s journey.

It’s the greatest ‘gift’ you can give them, because they too are hanging on, because they know even if they cannot communicate it to you, that you don’t want them to leave.

There is a big heap of gratitude in your story, that hopefully you will begin to feel about your Father’s passing. You were able to be physically present in the same room with him for the last 7 weeks of his life until his last breath. You did not have to see him through a sliding glass door, or talk to him on the phone., but we’re able to sit by his bedside and reminisce with him about the life you shared.

They live on within us and are with us all the time. All you have to do is have a little conversation with them. You will hear an answer or hear a song, or see something that will let you know they are not at all far from you. Your father loved you and your sister so very much, despite your parent’s past relationship ‘history’. Blessings to you Celia and to Barry, who is smiling down on you always! 💓🙏🏻

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Thank you for sharing what is a very personal memory; a very similar one resides in my memory of my dad and his last days too. Looking for rationalization, I'm thankful they aren't here to recognize the final stitches in the shroud of the nation they loved. My tears flow from the heartache, but the happy reminders of God blessed life live on forever...and come in the most amazing ways, like bluebirds. Psalm 91 was especially comforting today. Blessings child - we will always be their little girls..

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Celia, it's amazing to me how often I see your posts in my inbox, think to myself "that doesn't interest me all that much" and then find myself unable to stop reading. I can't say I find myself relating to the specifics of your writing, but I sure can relate to the range of emotions, the confusing and contradictory thoughts (especially regarding parental relationships), the self-doubt. The rawness of your writings is so . . . genuinely human. I admire your ability and willingness to open the window to your soul for all of us to see.

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Heartbreaking recollections...but soothing just the same. I recall telling my mother it was ok for her to go, in 2003. She later told me she finally felt my sister was ok with it. (I was 2nd of 3 girls.) This narrative really brought back my mother memories w/ Mother's day around the corner. Bittersweet, important deep feelings. Thank you.

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After watching that film, I see where you get your brilliance and humanity. You always touch my heart!

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See you and hear (read) you, Celia. And to one here who didn’t know your father, I’d say you’ve shown a view of him otherwise unwritten, unknown, precious and from the very front of the room. Love and prayers.

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WOW!

This is powerful stuff Celia. Just look at all the comments and feelings you tapped into here! I could go into my own story here, but I am still reading many of these.

This has been a tough week for a lot of us. My former wife suddenly died last Friday, leaving my son heartbroken. We have had a hard time with bridging a communication gap now for 18 years. There is no bitterness or anger, just a cold distance between me and her family that we all regret--- and there will be tears at the funeral among all of us. My son is sort of in the middle. When he called though, it was almost like he was 7 years old and got hurt on his bicycle. Or when he was really little and I held him in my arms. These things never change.

I think this story of yours really brings out emotions that we have buried for day-to-day survival, and where we soon realize there are still some feelings below the scars.

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I'm so sorry, Celia. May he rest in peace.

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Bless you Celia. Thank you for sharing.

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Great tribute, lovely man and lovely daughter ..

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His was always a steady voice coming out of the darkness for so many years providing insight and knowledge. Thank you for sharing.

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I think many of us who have lost parents feel for you Celia.

My Mother's memory was getting bad, & one day she turned the oven to cook something, but tbe match broke, so she went to get more. The minor explosion blew her across the kitchen, only singing her eye brows. When she told me she whispered, "don't tell your Father"

After my Mother passed on my Father's memory started to deteriate, so we disconnected the gas & bought him an electric jug. ( wish l knew about the memory benifits of Coconut Oil then)

l decided to abduct my Father on a commercial plane from Melbourne Australia, to Tasmania where he was born, & look after him there. l bought similar furniture etc. & looked for an apartment. Unfortunately he also passed away before l could complete my plan.

When l was preparing to sell my house, & move to lndonesia, l ran out of $. No job & low on supplies. l had helped some struggling friends with $, but didn't want to ask my children for help. lnstead l asked Jesus for help. The next day a man from Melbourne ( a 1hr. flight away) knocked on my door, after ID, he gave me a check for $20,000. My Father never found that money which my Mother had left for me 7 yrs. before, in her bank account.

Jesus said, ask and you shall receive, you don't have because you don't ask.

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Like your father always said, “I won’t say goodbye, I’ll say, ‘To be continued’.”

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May 7, 2022·edited May 7, 2022

Thank you, Celia. I'm sure your wonderful tribute to an obviously great dad will strike chords in many hearts and minds. It certainly did with me. I'm 83. My mum died at 89 some 24 years ago and for reasons I won't go into here, we never became emotionally close until I got her into a nursing home close to where I lived. I regret that I didn't try harder to understand and love her until her twilight years, and since she died never a day passes without me remembering and regretting all those wasted years of indifference and estrangement. You only have one mum or dad and all too often appreciate them when they are gone. Hopefully, watching and reading what you have written about Barry, others will get the message and mend any fences between them and the happiness that parental love and affection uniquely can bestow.

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