Today at church, while I sat still and listened to what was being said, I remembered a story a neighbor of my parents told me. I have forgotten all about this, until today.
One of my parent’s neighbors has dreams. He dreams about about good things and bad and about people he knows. Many times he dreams very interesting dreams about people at very interesting times.
This particular neighbor had a dream about my dad, the night he died.
In his dream he saw my dad. The entire scene started out gray. The next thing he saw was my dad dressed all in white, a great white light surrounding and emanating out of him. Only the dark rims of his glasses showing through. My dad looked at his neighbor and said, “Don’t I look just great!”
And as I remembered the telling of this dream, I felt him there…there with me.Filed under Dad | Comments (2)
Yesterday, after school, KP was in a pile on the floor crying.
I walked up to him to ask what was wrong and it was pretty clear by looking at him that he couldn’t get his jeans on. He seemed to need new ones because somehow he peed on the old pants he was wearing.
KP: I JUST CAN’T GET THEM UUUUUUUPPP!
Me: This is not big deal buddy, the zipper is just up already. Let’s pull the zipper down and it will be easier to put your pants on.
KP: Standing there looking mad at me and the world and his pants.
Me: Ummm, KP, how many pairs of underwear do you have on?
KP: A smile moving across his face. Let me see, one, two, three, four. I have four!
Me: Why do you have four pairs on?
KP: Because my pants are always too big.Filed under KP | Comment (1)
My friend Ellen was wielding the camera during my dad’s funeral and burial. She caught this shot, which I just love. Here it is…the last touch the kids will ever get of their grandpa.
However, the story doesn’t end there.
Before the casket even got out of the hearse, KP was standing at the edge of the very large grave, peering over the edge to see indeed how big that hole was and wondering what was going to happen next. Like maybe he might even fall in.
After the burial service, as people were dispersing, the kids asked how the casket got into the ground. Which quickly turned into, ARE WE GOING TO SEE GRANDPA GO INTO THE GROUND????
I quickly shot a look to my mother that said, you ok with this? And with her nod of approval, the funeral director got the tooth missing, butt crack showing grave digger to come out early and lower my dad into the ground.
As they were watching in amazement, as the box went deeper and deeper, they each grabbed a flower from the arrangement on the casket. And once the casket was in, they asked if they could throw in their flowers.
And with great gusto, as only little kids can get away with, they started throwing flowers into the hole and onto of the casket and belly laughing as they did it.
My mothers parting words were, “Your dad would have loved that. The kids circled around him and the final thing he would hear, their laughter.”Filed under Dad, Family | Comment (0)
When someone you love is dying, they tell you to say everything you want to say to that person. Get it all out, don’t leave anything behind.
I struggled with this thought over the past weeks. I felt as though, luckily enough, I had said everything to my dad, while he was alive, that I ever wanted or needed to. He knew how much I loved him, admired him, cherished his love and his time, his tender heart and his wickedly funny sense of humor and irreverence.
But yet, I sat wondering if there was something else I should say. Was I missing something?
The past two weeks have been hard.
Watching my dad’s condition deteriorate and seeing him struggle with the pain while we cared for him at home, was more than I could bear. I have no words to express the torment I felt. I could do nothing. I could do nothing but be there and hold his hand and as tears fell down my cheeks, he apologized to me.
I of course kept talking, that’s what I do. I would tell him stories, read him prayers, let him know of the mundane stuff that was happening in our life.
It wasn’t until I realized the end was drawing near and even though I had told him everything I loved about him, I still hadn’t said goodbye. I hadn’t told him to go. Go and be free from pain.
Why the hell would I tell him THAT? I didn’t want that. How was I going to tell him that? He CAN’T leave yet!
And one night, when the pain was great, I told him that he should go. With sobs and tears and my body draped over the man that took my little hand in his as a child, it was time…time for me to tell him to let go.Filed under cancer, Dad | Comment (1)
My sister-in-law Shannon found out last week that she has breast cancer.
She is amazing with her quiet resolve and fortitude to persevere.
In light of everything that is going on, she and my brother are facing this hurdle with great grace and style.
Here was the email I received today:
As some of you know, Shannon is going in for Breast Cancer surgery on Friday.
So to kick things off right, let’s get together at the Leaning Tower of Pizza in Uptown on Thursday night.
Happy Hour kicks off at 4 until 6pm.
We will be having fun and merriment.
Some of the things that could happen are…
*Guess Shannon’s new cup size!
*Pin the new nipple on Shannon!
*See if Shannon will show us her soon to be eliminate left lady!
*And many other fun and exciting things to be figured out on the fly!
We would love to see each and everyone of you.
If I missed anyone, please forward this msg.
Thank you for your thoughts in advance.
p.s. if I freaked anyone out with the levity of the email, Get over it. :-}
If you can make it out on Thursday night, do.
Come and raise a toast to Shannon!Filed under cancer, Family | Comment (1)