The Old Woman died three and a half, nearly four, years ago. And, I've pretty much been in a really bad mood since. Last month, The Old Man was placed in a facility, not too much unlike the lab, for old humans. It isn't an ideal situation, but it was the best possible option. His health is such that he can't care for himself and refuses to assist family members in caring for him.
I was talking to the oldest child of the Old Folks the other night, and after our conversation I realized how lucky I am that the Old Folks found me/gave me a home.
The Oldest Child characterized the Old Man as the "most emotionally disconnected" person he'd ever met.
My perspective is wholly different. The Old Man, without a doubt, loves me unconditionally. He is always happy to see me, and affectionate. (When he was a bit younger and stronger, would greet me with a hug that would lift me off my feet.) I have always known that the Old Man was my greatest cheerleader and anything I thought I should try to do, he had complete confidence I could accomplish it.
I'm sad that the children of the Old Man experienced their relationship with him differently. And, given his advanced age, I suspect there won't ever be a moment when they are able to experience him as I have.
Having the opportunity to realize how much I'm loved as well as reconcile any "difficult" relationships is just one more way I'm the luckiest monkey in the world.