It's the end of an era for Donna and me. Last Sunday, her mother, Thelma May Neel Cromwell, passed away at the age of 92. She enjoyed a good life, and she leaves behind a score of children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren as evidence. We attended her funeral in Conroe this past Wednesday and said our goodbyes. Thelma was the last of our parents. My mother died in 1996 and my father passed away in 2008. Donna's father was the first to go, back in 1994. I miss all four of them, but have so many good memories of each of them.
We still have a few family members from our parents' generation still alive. Donna has an uncle by marriage still alive. One of my father's sisters is still alive, and one of my mother's brothers is still alive. For the most part, though, our parents' generation is largely gone. I've always had the greatest respect for my parents' generation. They suffered through the Great Depression, then fought the greatest of all wars.
While attending my mother-in-law's services (visitation and funeral), I could not help noticing that my generation has now assumed the mantel. We all have children, grandchildren, and a few of us even have great-grandchildren. There were a lot of white-haired folks in attendance.
The passage of time takes us from childhood to old age. I like to think that Donna and I are aging gracefully. We are still pretty lively, and we certainly enjoy life. We look forward to what each day brings, and there is so much we still hope to do, so many places we still plan to see. I just want to live as long as I can do so with some quality of life.
Goodbye, Thelma -- we'll all miss you.