Dad

"There is a sacredness in tears.
They are not the mark of weakness, but of power.
They speak more eloquently than ten
thousand tongues.
They are messengers of overwhelming grief...
and unspeakable love."-not sure

"Tears are the silent language of grief." -Voltaire

"No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear." --C.S. Lewis

I feel sadness when I look at my dad's photos, but I also feel joy and love and warmth. I went for a run through the woods today with Andy, and it occurred to me its somewhat strange (not really the word I am looking for) to be so caught off guard, to be so shocked..obliterated...brought to my knees...by something so natural...so ordinary as death....everyone dies...what's that quote...nothing is certain but death and taxes (Benjamin Franklin). This is something everyone has to experience at some point. I remember being upset when my great grand mother died, who I was really really close to. Maybe its because she was older and in a nursing home, because I had more time to prepare myself for it that it wasn't so painful.

I remember the last time I hugged my dad, and now I wish I'd gone back and hugged him again. I'm grateful that I went down to see him that last time, that I stayed around to wait for him to get back from his MRI or whatever procedure he was having done....that I got to hug him and hold his hand in the hospital bed.

Another thing that occurred to me while I was running is that I need to be more patient with the living, because as cliche as it sounds you really never know when your time is going to come. As is natural I suppose, I tend to pull away from situations that could lead to pain. I did that a lot with my dad when he was sick. I didn't always have patience with him. I didn't always make the time to sit and talk to him. But now I would like nothing more than to spend the entire day just talking to him, just listening to him. I'm sure most people put there parents on pedestals...or perhaps not...but my dad was one of those rare souls.

He faced obstacles every day, yet all my memories are of him smiling or laughing or cracking a joke...ok well maybe not every memory...on the rare occasion that he got angry, he just had to give me a look and that was enough to stop me in my tracks. He didn't anger easily, but when he did it was a terrifying sight...his eyes said everything. He really didn't even have to yell, just look at me.

I miss his pep talks, his advice, and his faith. No matter what decision I made, even if he didn't necessarily agree with it, he was always there to support me and provide an ear to bounce ideas off of. Whenever I was upset as a child, he knew that at my nastiest all I really needed was a hug. I could tell him anything, with out fear, his love was truly unconditional.

I am excited to go home for the holidays, but I am anxious about driving down that road again, because the last time I drove down that way it was not a happy trip.....sometimes I'm not sure why I'm writing all this down. Its too painful to read over again right now, but maybe in the future I'll want to look back and remember....or maybe its part of the healing process to just get all these thoughts out of my head.