Father's Day is the day after tomorrow. The world is barraged with advertisements and images of dads; dads and their children; dads and their time off, cards and gifts for dads; dads and their kids playing in the park near my house. Honestly, I couldn't even go to the card section of the local Hallmark store to get a father's day card for my lovely father-in-law. Too hard. I made one, which I think is nice, and sent it to him from k and I.
The past week has been a good diversion; the World Cup games are on, and I watch up to three games a day. Summer break creates this possibility~ thank god for summers off. But I genuinely cheer for certain teams, gather with friends for delicious food themed on the days games....this is healthy living~live is moving on, I know, and I've been happily wrapped up in it. The Financial Advisor X has apparently been away at a conference, so I was not bothered by their shenanigans. The real estate agent was having a slow week, so I have to contemplate some tree work at dad's house...but I could let the soccer and friends distract me, and pull me back into the present moment.
I am very nervous about Father's Day. I think of all the ways in which he was my father. In every way. I am full of heartfelt gratitude for all the ways in which he was part of my life. I know people who did not have dads like mine. Our nurse-practitioner at the hospital was "adopted" by my dad over the two years he was a patient at the Cancer Center. My "adopted" sister is very, very dear to me. We know we'd be friends outside of The Situation, so we are gingerly stepping toward this friendship. A friendship where we have already shared major personal details, had very soulful talks...but we have to work "normal" into this relationship. Hey, if my father "adopted' her, that's good enough for me. I need her in my life. She is full of positive energy, she radiates compassion, and she is funny.
I am stuck, as always , 1500 miles from my home, and now from their graves I have to figure out how to pay my love and respect to my parents from a distance. You know, to walk to the graves with flowers or stones, spend a few minutes in quiet, and go. Me, I drag the feelings of guilt around with me all day because I can't get there to pay my respects in the way I wish. So I've gotta come up with something else, because I don't want to be a mess all day. I know...when we plan, the Universe laughs....I don't konw. Soccer will be on, good fun games. good food, good friends. Something he would do himself.
It is not the way I'd choose to celebrate Father's Day~ I used to send a couple of cards, sometimes flowers, and talk to him on the phone, or let him talk to me if he'd had a bad week.
When he died I found all the cards I'd sent him. All of them. Twice a week for two years, I sent my father cards. Sometimes with little notes, sometimes with our signatures and a (((hug))) and xxxxooooo
I knew he liked them, but when I found them after he died, my heart swelled that I had been able to do something positive from far away. After some though, I chose not to keep those cards; their purpose had been accomplished. I wanted him to know as often as possible, how much I admired his strength, and that I loved him for this and whole lot more. The lid came off my feelings, and I gave them out without fear of recrimination. It felt glorious to be so generous, especially when the receiver's arms were wide open.
I am missing this purpose in my life now. I loved sending my love to someone. My dad was especially sentimental. I don't have anyone in my life like that now. A part of my has shut down, at least temporarily. Dad was able to take in all the love and respect I had for him. I haven't met anyone else like him. Maybe the terminal process created more space in him for love. I don't have children, but I have all this love ....so he got it. My husband, K, doesn't value this kind of effusion. So now, I guess, these feelings are transmuted into grief, crying, and feeling very lonely, as if there's no one I can give these things to. So they well up within me and spill out.
Tomorrow I am going to a lovely summer outdoor wedding. I have no idea how I will respond. I'll try to accept whatever happens to me, covered in waterproof makeup, naturally. For this event, I am focusing on organizing the perfect outfit. This also distracts me.
Doing my best during a really hard time. Yoga is getting me to breath, and keep my body strong. I am still working on the other stuff.
About Me
- Catherine
- In this blog I have created a haven, a place I allow my deepest emotions to go and sit. I can write easily about what I’ve accomplished. This biography I can recite in my sleep. But I’ve always written poetry and in diaries since I was a teenager. I continued to write poetry in my journals, and not until 2006 did I show them to anyone. I generally write every day, at the present in memoir form. I haven’t written poetry since my mother died in January, 2007. I didn’t write at all between her death and the death of my father three years later in January, 2010. On my father’s birthday in March, 2010, I began this blog, to honor my father and to help me grieve. But I also desperately needed to write, and this stream of conscious style emerged. I needed to find my organic voice.
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