This week is the 3rd anniversary of my father’s death. I don’t feel the emotional intensity of grief that I did for so long. But I miss him terribly. As much acceptance as I have, at some level it still just doesn’t seem right that he’s gone. He was only 60 and truly one of the best people on the planet. A “good ol’ boy” cowboy. Everyone loved him. Ugh…these are the things in life that will never make sense.
Not to brag or anything, but I have dealt with this loss as well as anyone I know. I don’t know why; it’s just been that way. He died of cancer and we knew months before he died that his time was short. The grieving process began long before he ever left this life. Some of what I do to remember is cook his favorite food on his birthday, Father’s Day and this anniversary. I’m not cooking chicken fried steak today, but I am about to go eat one at Monument Café. It’s one of the best in Central Texas. However, I will make banana pudding. I read my journal from that summer. I look through photo albums and watch videos. I just remember. Daddy was buried Bell Falls Cemetary; a family cemetary in the middle of an old hay field. It’s an amazingly quiet and peaceful place. I love to go there. My tradition is to write Daddy a letter and read it at his grave. I “catch him up” on my life and our family’s over the last year. I believe that he already knows, but it’s been a very healing thing for me to do. After I’ve read it, I burn it and then bury the ashes. On the way home, I’ll have lunch at this small mom and pop restaurant…the fried catfish is awesome.
I’m a fan of “Grey’s Anatomy.” Last season George’s father died. After he died, George and Christina had this conversation:
Christina, “There’s this thing called the Dead Dad’s Club. You can’t be in it until you’re in it. I’m sorry you’re in it.”
George, “I don’t know how to live on this earth without my father.”
Christina, “Yeah, that (feeling) never changes.
Ugh…they’re both right. Life just isn’t the same and it seems like I’ll always feel a void.
Watching my father die was the hardest experiences that I’ve ever had. I still shutter when I remember some moments: like sitting up with him all night his last night alive giving him morphine. Even still, I will hold that event in my life as one of the greatest times of blessing. The list is long of the many things I have to be grateful for during that time, but not the least of which is the opportunity to say goodbye. I also came to know, really know, what it means to accept life as it comes to you and to be grateful. I came to a point in his illness where I could no longer pray for him to be healed and believe in that prayer. But what I could believe in was that God was and would continue to be present in whatever happened. So, I prayed for myself, my family and my father to know that presence and that it would bring us comfort. Somehow in the midst of that I was given a gift…a gift of peace that Paul talks about in Philippians 4:7. It’s inexplicable and a mystery. That verse also says that peace will “guard your heart and mind.” That has been my experience. God gave me a peace that guarded my heart against anger, resentment, bitterness….any of which would have been perfectly reasonable. Instead what I could focus on was being grateful for every moment I had with him.
Not to brag or anything, but I have dealt with this loss as well as anyone I know. I don’t know why; it’s just been that way. He died of cancer and we knew months before he died that his time was short. The grieving process began long before he ever left this life. Some of what I do to remember is cook his favorite food on his birthday, Father’s Day and this anniversary. I’m not cooking chicken fried steak today, but I am about to go eat one at Monument Café. It’s one of the best in Central Texas. However, I will make banana pudding. I read my journal from that summer. I look through photo albums and watch videos. I just remember. Daddy was buried Bell Falls Cemetary; a family cemetary in the middle of an old hay field. It’s an amazingly quiet and peaceful place. I love to go there. My tradition is to write Daddy a letter and read it at his grave. I “catch him up” on my life and our family’s over the last year. I believe that he already knows, but it’s been a very healing thing for me to do. After I’ve read it, I burn it and then bury the ashes. On the way home, I’ll have lunch at this small mom and pop restaurant…the fried catfish is awesome.
I’m a fan of “Grey’s Anatomy.” Last season George’s father died. After he died, George and Christina had this conversation:
Christina, “There’s this thing called the Dead Dad’s Club. You can’t be in it until you’re in it. I’m sorry you’re in it.”
George, “I don’t know how to live on this earth without my father.”
Christina, “Yeah, that (feeling) never changes.
Ugh…they’re both right. Life just isn’t the same and it seems like I’ll always feel a void.
Watching my father die was the hardest experiences that I’ve ever had. I still shutter when I remember some moments: like sitting up with him all night his last night alive giving him morphine. Even still, I will hold that event in my life as one of the greatest times of blessing. The list is long of the many things I have to be grateful for during that time, but not the least of which is the opportunity to say goodbye. I also came to know, really know, what it means to accept life as it comes to you and to be grateful. I came to a point in his illness where I could no longer pray for him to be healed and believe in that prayer. But what I could believe in was that God was and would continue to be present in whatever happened. So, I prayed for myself, my family and my father to know that presence and that it would bring us comfort. Somehow in the midst of that I was given a gift…a gift of peace that Paul talks about in Philippians 4:7. It’s inexplicable and a mystery. That verse also says that peace will “guard your heart and mind.” That has been my experience. God gave me a peace that guarded my heart against anger, resentment, bitterness….any of which would have been perfectly reasonable. Instead what I could focus on was being grateful for every moment I had with him.
It’s hard to contain my thoughts and feelings into something short and concise. Hopefully I haven’t rambled too terribly. Today I’m just telling my story and remembering…its a good thing.
2 comments:
Thank you for sharing your story. I lost my mom suddenly when she was 54. It came out of nowhere, no warning, and slammed me with such force as I did not know how to cope or recover. Devastated. It has only been in the last few years that I can remember her with fond memories - and not the desperate sadness surrounding her death.
I ate for the first time at the Monument Cafe about 2 weeks ago while in your area of the State. Had the Kobe Chicken Fried Steak. Excellent. Your father had good taste.
~npp
What a wonderful story. My wife of 36 yrs passed away in July 2004. I'm working through it slowly and today I found your blog after updating my profile and searching "The Lamb." Her birthday was today.
We are so in the same place in our journey. Please read my blog, especially June 13th entry "Tinkerbell Jerusalem" and email me.
www.tomsgreatadventure.blogspot.com
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