Posts Tagged With: death

Godspeed, Mo

Yesterday at 11:16 I received a text message from Thing 1.
This photo and these words.

Look at him just chillin! Sweet boy 🙂

Yesterday at 3:44 I received a phone call from Thing 1.
She was crying. She said, “Mo’s gone.

She said after they took that pic of him lying in the yard, they went for a walk, and over by their pond he wandered off into the woods, as he sometimes does. A bit later on she went to get the mail and found him in the road. He’d been hit by a car.

Mo was a miracle for our family at at time when we were in great change. The Things dad and I had just separated and the girls were living in two different places for the first time in their lives.
Thing 2 was obsessed with going every Saturday to adoption day at the pet shop. We went religiously. Never to “get” a pet always to look at the dogs and cats.
One particular Saturday we were walking past the dog crates in which all manner of dog was barking or acting a fool. With the exception of one dog.

This sweet dog was lying quietly in his crate completely ignoring the chaos around him. He looked up when we stopped and his little nubby tail started to wag. We three girls were enamored by this sweet boy.
(Y’all don’t know this about me, but I don’t like dogs in any way shape or form. I’m not a hater or anything, I just don’t like dogs.)
But this dog. This sweet boy. I feel in love with him. So did the girls.
There was much conversation about how we might adopt Mo. We liked that his name was Mo, not only did it suit him, it also went nicely with our last name.
I walked away from the girls and called their father at work. I told him that the girls were going to call him about a dog. He heaved the greatest of sighs. Then I said, “We need him.” That gave him pause. He knew that if I said that, this must have been some dog.

Well, we ended up adopting sweet Mo and he became part of our family. He mostly lived at their father’s house, but sometimes he lived with me too.
He was the sweetest, most neurotic thing you’ve ever seen. He had mad abandonment issues and fretted when we’d leave him to go to school and work.
Thing 2 took quite a shine to him, she researched online, and in books from the library, how best to love this quirky boy. She was enthusiastic to take him to the dog park to play with other dogs.

She was enthusiastic about taking him for long walks, especially down to the riverfront park where we could walk along the canal. One time, Thing 2, Mo, and I arrived just in time to watch the authorities pull a body from the river. Good times.

Mo was such a good loving dog. He was happy to belong to our weird family. We loved him so.
When it was time for me to move from SC to VA, Mo would lie on his big green pillow (which he stole from Thing 2’s bed) and keep me company while I packed box after box of books.

Just this fall, Mo and his “little sister” Sweetie moved from the Things father’s house to Thing 1 and Husband N’s. Being on the little farm gave them so much more freedom. They were able to rip and race and be silly doggies without disturbing any neighbors.
Of course, it was an adjustment. The dogs missed their dad. They missed Thing 2. But they were so happy with Thing 1 and Husband N. They were happy to be together and loved.

I’ve been hit by waves of sadness since I talked to my daughter yesterday. The tears come out of nowhere and choke me. I couldn’t breathe for the weeping when I told YBW the news last night. I’ve cried alone, I’ve cried with YBW. I’ve cried on the phone with each of my babies.
That sweet dog was more than just a dog we adopted one day. He was a gift for our family. We were able to love him and each other through the worst times and come out the other side better off.
I really do not like dogs. Mo is the only dog I’ve ever truly loved. He was so special.

When I was more calm after sharing the news with YBW, he got angry. He wanted to know how fast one must drive down a dirt road to hit and kill a dog. What kind of “stupid Georgia hillbilly” didn’t stop to help, but just kept driving.
His anger surprised me.
But he’s right.
There’s no excuse for that kind of driving. There’s no excuse for Mo’s death.

Thing 1 felt so responsible, felt that she failed at keeping Mo safe for our family.
I told her that it wasn’t her fault. That none of us blame her. That we’re so sorry it happened and she has to live through it.
Turns out Thing 2 told her the same thing…nearly verbatim.
She told me her father said that Mo was an old dog, thirteen or fourteen years old. And wasn’t it wonderful that he’d had such a lovely day? That he was healthy enough to run and play and lie in the sun. That he left this world a strong dog, not an old sick dog.
My heart thanks him for being a good dad to her in that moment.

Thing 1 and texted a bit last night when we no longer had the will to speak.

I called her a little while ago to check on her.
She told me she wished she hadn’t found him. That it would be easier for her to deal with if she hadn’t seen him. I understand that on the deepest level. I told her how proud of her I am. I told her she was a real adult yesterday, and that I understood it sucked more than anything. But she did it. She’s doing it now. She’s living though the grief and pain. She’s not looking around for someone more “adultier” than she is. She’s just doing what it takes to get through. That’s adulting.
She asked me to hug YBW and thank him for his anger. She said she wants to hang signs on the road. “Thanks for killing my dog, you f**king asshole.”
She has moments of tears, and moments of anger.
Mostly, she has love.
We all have love.
The love of a dog called Mo.

Categories: love, on being a mom | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

lifting them up in love and light

They say death comes in threes.
I don’t exactly know who “they” are…but that’s what they say.

I find it is true.
In the last two weeks, three people I love very much have experienced death.
Now, I was only truly close to one of the deceased. The mother of a girl I grew up with. Amy’s mother loved and taught and mothered me just as she did her own five children.

The other two deaths are further removed. Each of them is the father of a guy I love. I never met these fathers, but I love their sons a great deal.

My friend Jack’s father left a whole in his world and he’s been struggling so. It pains me to know this, to know that I really can’t help. He has to heal in his own way.

I got a message from Thing 2 this morning, she wanted me to know her arrival time might be delayed. The young man who is her true and dearest friend has to bury his father some time in the coming week. I’ve know the young man since he was an awkward preteen in middle school, with an unhealthy crush on my daughter. He grew and matured as a young man. I loved to watch as he took the stage with both my girls in high school. Turns out he and Thing 2 were meant to be the best of friends!

My heart is heavy for my friends. Dealing with this painful grief. So if you don’t mind, would you all join me in lifting them up in love and light?
Love and light to you, Amy and Jack and Lane.

It just occurred to me to wonder if I’m feeling this love so strongly on this particular day? Today is the anniversary of my own father’s death.

I’m going to love and light myself a little bit today, too.

Categories: death, loss, love | Tags: , , , , , , | 2 Comments

specific example of love and strength

I’ve known Catherine since I was eighteen years old. We developed a deep and everlasting friendship. She was a bridesmaid in my first wedding. She has woken up at my home on Christmas morning almost as many times as Thing 1 and Thing 2. She would have been the one to raise my children had something happened to me and their father.
We know each other’s families, have been there for each other through thick and thin. Laughed and cried together, and loved like crazy.
We sometimes go months without speaking, but that never matters. We simply pick right back up where we left off as though a moment hasn’t passed. So when I got a message from her Thursday that said, “Bob passed away this morning, will you please come to the service with me?” My only answer was, “Of course I will!”

Catherine was married to Bob for twenty years. They’d been married a year or two when I met her. They were a curious couple, but that old adage about opposites attracting seemed truly embodied in these two. The girls said their names almost as one long name: “CafferineandBob”. To this day, if I say something to one or the other of them about Catherine, they’ll say, “Cafferine Catherine?” To which I smile and reply, “Yes, Cafferine Catherine.”
As I say, they were happily married, and they suited each other. And they were an important part of our life.
But one day twelve or thirteen years ago, Bob disappeared. I mean that literally. He just left. No explanation. No information. He literally disappeared off the face of the earth. Left Catherine holding the bag of their life. She suffered from the unanswered questions. She suffered with the pain of loss. She suffered doubt and confusion. She suffered from the barrage of questions coming at her that she simply couldn’t answer. Then she suffered financially as folks came out of the woodwork to collect on random Bob debts. She was blessed to have good people around her. She suffered, but she had love and support to keep her safe and sane.
What that man did to her was inexcusable. I could never accept his behavior. I never forgave him for what he did to her. He had no idea what she went through. That woman is made of the toughest stuff. She moved forward in grace and gained strength from that pain, but never got hard. She has a deep and all-encompassing love inside her.

Then, a couple of years ago Bob showed back up. He’d been on a soul searching journey. He’d suffered great pain and loss and didn’t know how to deal so he simply disappeared.
He showed back up on the arm of the widow of his recently deceased cousin announcing they were to be married and wanting his things.
Catherine provided his belongings and promptly told them to…well, I’ll just say she bid them adieu.

She had real love.
She had real pain.

Bob was sick with cancer and died quietly at home Thursday morning.
Catherine not only went to his funeral, she spoke eloquently about love and life and peace. I have always been proud to call her my friend. But in that moment, standing in the tiny cemetery in the warm sun and cool breeze, I was witness to another specific example of the love and strength inside Catherine.
She is and extraordinary woman. How fortunate for me that we love each other.

Categories: death, loss | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

chaos and big love

Oh God! Will it ever stop raining? ~ The Saw Doctors

Chaos rained down in big fat drops!

My birthday was actually quite lovely. YBW surprised me by staying home and greeting me with kisses and pressies as I woke up. Then took me to my favorite “dump” for breakfast! Heading into work late, he dropped me off with Sundance. She and I went to see her folks and had a little lunch with her mom.

Graduation was long, but not at all boring. And though he’s not “really” my kid, I was filled with love and pride as Thing C crossed the stage in his green cap and gown.
The added surprise of seeing a girl who was absolute best friends with my own Thing 1 from the time they were four cross the stage brought me so much joy!

I woke Friday morning (Friday the 13th even…my favorite!!!) to the news that my darling friend and mentor’s beloved died the night before.
Yes, he had been ill. But after the news of “four to six months” his illness took his life in one short week.
I started my drive to Charleston at four o’clock Sunday morning and spent the next three days loving my friend through her initial grief. There was much wine and laughter and some sadness as we celebrated the life of this man we all loved.
She kept thanking me for being there. Truthfully, there was nowhere else I would have been. My place in the world in those days was with her. There was no question. I was where I belonged.

I was able to squeeze in time with my sister-in-law. (I got to keep her in the divorce, the love we share made us sisters in our own right, it just so happens she was the former husbands sister first.) Got to spend time with my nephew and niece. That little girl is a bundle of kookiness if I ever saw one! She so reminds me of Thing 2 when she was that age. All “chatty Cathy” and bouncy arms and legs, trying so hard to be grown and still so little. She’ll be ten next week. I can’t believe how quickly the time passed!

I came home in time to celebrate Thing G’s birthday on Wednesday. Celebrating sixteen is so different for boys than for girls. It isn’t quite as big of a deal. Thing 1 had a huge “Punked Out Wonderland” party for her “sweet sixteen”. Thing 2 and I spent the day at the spa…facials, manis and pedis and lunch. She didn’t want a big party. That’s her personality though…

Last night my Arizona friend and her two daughters arrived! So much Robynbird joy!! They’re here for the weekend and then just as they leave, her eldest son rolls into town. Getting to love two thirds of their family is nothing to sneeze at!
She and I will go to the ballet this evening while the girls go visit old friends.
The oldest sister, my Goddaughter, just woke up and now we’re going to have tea and visit before everyone else gets out of bed.

Yesterday afternoon, YBW and I were up the street at our neighbors for cocktails. I remarked that I felt like I hadn’t seen him in a month!
It feels like I got on a hamster wheel on my birthday and just yesterday finally got off. The last ten days were fast, furious, and chaotic, but filled with great big love.
It’s time for me to keep the love but say “Bye Felicia” to the chaos…I need the rest.

Categories: death, love, me | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

we cannot function from a place of fear

I have to admit I’m uncomfortable with what I’m seeing on social media after the events in Paris Friday night. I know that people honestly believe they’re being helpful and supportive, but I can’t see how painting over your facebook photo with the French flag makes a real difference. The desire to rally around the people of France is real and natural, but does it need a hashtag?
People lost their lives. Their families are grieving. A nation, the entire world grieves with them.
I absolutely want the ability to wrap my arms around all the people of the world to help them feel safe. I can’t do that.
Perhaps that’s what the flag overlay is about, feeling like you’re helping when you can’t actually help.
I suspect a percentage of those people have done it just because it’s in vogue. The French people can’t see their flag superimposed over all these photos. Only the friends and followers can see. This is why I question it.
It feels so politicized to me.
I see people talking about hanging a “closed” sign on the doors of the US. They want the people of Europe to do the same. Lock out anyone who might bring terror.
Are not the people fleeing their homes and country running from the threat of terror?

I sound like I’m judging. I’m not.
I’m uncomfortable because it almost feels more like an agenda than solidarité.

I have not changed my facebook profile photo and I won’t. I have not gotten on a soapbox. But that doesn’t mean I’m not frightened and horrified by what’s happening in the world. It doesn’t mean that I’m not supportive of the people of France, or the people of Lebanon. It doesn’t mean that I’m not supportive of the Kenyan students.
It means I don’t know how my support can and will manifest itself.
I choose not to speak about what I don’t know, what I struggle to understand.

I don’t understand this desire to kill innocent people to create chaos and fear. How does belief in God warrant that kind of action? What kind of God wants that?

I am blessed to know that the people I love are safe. My heart aches for those who cannot say the same.
I’m staying quiet because I don’t understand.
My quiet does not reflect my lack of concern, love, or desire for peace.
I send love and light into the world trusting that it will grow.
I don’t need a flag for that.

Categories: me | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

standing in the rain, and waiting for the stream to settle

Today would have been my dad’s sixty-ninth birthday and I stood in the rain scattering his ashes in a place he loved to be.
I did this because his oldest and dearest friend came from Colorado to perform this act and he is the one who chose the date. He felt it was a good way to honor my dad, the anniversary of his birth. I’m not sure how I feel about this.
I did it because it was what my dad wanted, and he wanted his friend involved. I’d known this for years so I had plenty of time to prepare for it. They were cops together, I’ve know him since I was a teeny little thing, but you know how that goes, he’s close with my dad and I grow up and move on.
My heart wasn’t in it really, I was just going through the motions. But I’m OK with that because it wasn’t about me it was about my dad’s friend…and my dad. I am a good daughter.
I’m tired now it’s all over. It was cold and rainy which wasn’t physically comfy and it was emotionally exhausting. I want to get in the bathtub with my ipad for a bit of soaking and Netflix.

On the Thing 2 front, I finally had a good long conversation with my friend and mentor last night. She asked what my heart was telling me to do. I told her my gut said, make her come back, my heart is tired of fighting and my head pretty much wants the other two to get it together. She laughed. She reminded me I’m a “gut truster”. I agreed.
We talked a bit more and she told me I had been tromping back and forth in the stream and it was muddy and unclear, that perhaps I should sit by the stream and let the sediment fall to the bottom and wait for the water to clear. (Oh how I love this analogy!)
We talked a bit longer and she just wondered aloud where I was. I took a deep breath and said: I’m going to let it go and leave her where she is.
I feel good about that decision because instead of focusing on her, I decided to focus on me. I’m going crazy trying to decide what to do what’s best for her life and completely ignoring what’s best for my own.

This morning I had the most freeing thought.
I’m so worried about Thing 2’s future but I didn’t take into consideration that teenagers live in the now. So if she’s sad, lonely and uncomfortable here in this home, how successful can her future be?
I know her dad won’t hold her accountable, but perhaps she really can live happily in the now and STILL have a relatively successful future.
And that might be as positive as I’ll ever feel about it.
I lived in that horrible situation for years, trapped, scared and feeling unsafe. It hurt me physically and emotionally. If she FEELS safe, etc. then isn’t that actually “what’s best” for her?
I believe she stands a better chance here but I’m only going to focus on me and my future.
She’ll sort it out eventually. I believe I’ve done a good enough job raising her to have that faith.

And that’s how this portion of the story ends.
She will be responsible for ‘cleaning up her own mess’ and building her future and I’ll focus on my own future and just love her.

Categories: death, loss, love, on being a mom | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

executrix…may I have another word please?

I found out this week that my dad’s ex-wife (not my mom) is the beneficiary on his life insurance through the police department.
(Would you like to see a container for my joy? Envision a teeny salt cellar spoon…only teenier…nope, still teenier…yes…right about there!)

I have read I can challenge the beneficiary but will need counsel. My cousin has hooked me up with someone she knows…but I have to pay $200 just to meet this woman. And I’m concerned that the ex wife will sue me for a copy of the death certificate…and win.
I would have that money sit and rot before I’d let her have it…so I need to decide how to move forward.

My brother is convinced there is “mortgage insurance” a policy somewhere that will pay the balance of the mortgage on our dad’s house so we can sell it free and clear…so far, I’ve found no evidence…but a close friend of Daddie’s has offered to purchase the house at fair market value, so we are leaning that direction…it would cover the mortgage as well as leave a bit of money for each of our pockets.
I’m inclined to put mine away for Things 1 and 2…but my brother wants me to be in a safer vehicle…mine isn’t unsafe, it’s just made by a manufacturer he doesn’t like.

I’m beginning to dislike the word executrix…specifically because it’s a new “label” for me…I don’t want the responsibility…the hassle…any of it really.
I am taking up the mantle because it was asked of me by my Daddie, he trusted me enough to be the responsible one…
He told me once he was sad I wasn’t his mommy…that I was such a wonderful mommy and he wished sometimes I could have been his mommy and he would know how well he was loved by the way I cared for him.
I’m not his mommy, but I can take care of these last things for him because he was well loved.
That’s what good daughters do.

Categories: loss, love, me | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

people weary

I’m so people weary.

I’m tired of all the people around my house and some of these people are my children.
I want to be alone and quiet. I don’t want to have to be carrying on conversations or concerning myself with what everyone wants to eat.

We’re having people over today…in addition to our four children and Thing 1’s finace…YBW’s brother and his wife, Sundance and Girlie Thing and Boy Thing, and my brother…I love each of these people with the entirety of my heart, but I just don’t have it in me to be around people. I just want to be quiet.

I kind of want to just be alone with YBW but I don’t want him to get worn out of me. I could be alone with Sundance because we can be quiet together and I’ll feel safe.

I don’t want to go back to school tomorrow. I want to be at home where it’s quiet. I don’t really want to ever go back to school.

I don’t want to keep thinking, ‘is today over yet?’ while at the same time not wanting the tomorrows to come.

I’m exhausted. I want to be selfish and take to my bed.

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saying goodbye

I survived the twenty two days between the death of my dad and his memorial service.
I celebrated YBW’s birthday two days after he died, the arrival of Thing 2 on Mother’s Day, my own birthday the following day, Thing G’s confirmation the end of the same week, his birthday the very next day, the arrival of my estranged brother from the west coast, the arrival of Thing 1 and her fiancé two days later, and finally the memorial service yesterday.

Sundance says I’m a big brave girl and need new shoes…I got new shoes for the service, but I don’t think that’s what she had in mind…shoe shopping is on the agenda.

Yesterday was a very difficult day and the love I received truly held me up when I needed it most. Friends and family who came to grieve the absence of my dad from their lives were there because of the love they had for him. Friends and family came to support me in my grief because they love me. Family I have because of YBW, his brother, sister-in-law, and nephew, who are mine now too, Things C and G’s mom and her husband, they all came because we are family now. Out of the corner of my eye I saw one of my dearest friends from my ‘old’ preschool teaching days sneak into the back of the church, she came because she loves me…that’s the moment my tears began to flow.

The service was actually quite lovely, when I spoke of my dad, there was laughter and tears and love in that room. I hope I made him proud.
The pastor mentioned Daddie told him he was going to be disco dancing up the aisle after his hip healed…that will never happen, but I feel sure he’s dancing his ass off wherever he is.

I am exhausted but peaceful.
I am lifted up by love.
I am glad it’s over.


Categories: death, loss, love | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

what I’ve decided to say about my dad

Even though we call him something different, we’re here to celebrate his life and the impact he had on us. I’m going to celebrate my version of him by telling stories.

The first real memory I have of my Daddie is sitting in his lap at Great-Grandma’s funeral, we sat behind a kind of sheer green curtain separated from the non-family who were at the service. I remember sitting in his lap and playing with his fingers. When I think of his hands, I think of how big his fingers were. His hands were strong and capable and built so many things, but they were also gentle, I remember him holding my hand when I was a little girl, also as a grown up woman, oh how I loved seeing those hands hold my babies.
Sometimes those hands would bust our butts…
I remember a particular incident involving my cousins, C and L, my brother E, and me. We were in the basement at Grandma’s house and the boys had the sword (Why four children under the age of 12 were allowed to play with a sword is still beyond me.) but the boys had the sword and were hitting the metal pole that supported the I beam, the cool part was that it was making an awesome clanking sound. I distinctly remember watching them and thinking we were going to get in trouble. L begged for a turn and they just kept ignoring her. But then I heard feet rapidly crossing the house above us heading for the stairs and that was the moment the boys decided to give the sword to L. And as Daddie burst through the door there was L, sword raised above her head making a huge battle cry and attacking the pole.
They boys thought they were clever, but L was the only one of us who didn’t get her ass beat that day. (I’m not sure why I got it, I just sat there…perhaps it’s because I didn’t stop them.)

When I was a teenager, Daddie was the “cool” dad and friends liked to hang out over our house. I never got that…but does any kid ever? Some friends and I were downstairs watching a movie and I realized one of the angel fish was floating in the aquarium so I shouted upstairs for Daddie to come get it, he came down, reached into the aquarium grabbed the dead fish and waved it around as though it was saying goodbye to all the other fish. My friends though he was hilarious, but I was just mortified.
Another time I came home and he was standing there with my bra in his hand: so I found this under the couch cushion downstairs.
Thinking quickly on my feet I replied: I took it off watching tv last night.
I suspected he knew I was lying, but was relieved when he went with me on it.
It was hard being the teenage daughter of a police officer…there wasn’t much I could get away with…and boys knew he had a gun…

When he taught me to drive stick he was convinced I was capable, but shouted at me the entire time until I finally gave up, stopped the truck in the middle of the street, pulled the emergency break, got out, slammed the door and walked back down the hill to home. We laughed about that as soon as he got home, I laughed as I wrote this. The stubborn apple didn’t fall far from the stubborn tree.

My Daddie loved being a grandfather. He loved spending time with his granddaughters, and when he couldn’t spend time with them he loved hearing about their exploits. He always asked about the girls, and was excited to hear what was going on in their lives. I found a note Thing 2 wrote to him four years ago when she was in the eighth grade, taped to the wall beside his desk. She decorated the card with tons of animal stickers because she and her grandfather both love animals. She actually wrote the card because she got new address labels and was excited to use them. When I brought the card home to her she was flooded with the memory of making and sending it to him, and she was so touched he kept it right near him where he could see it for so long.

Y’all know how much my dad loved his dogs.
Together, the six of them who went before him welcomed their daddy home when he left this world for the next. Three others were left behind but I have faith they will be reunited in time.
I’ve heard all kinds of stories of their walks and driving around and people looking forward to seeing them in the back of the truck. He loved taking them places and showing them off, they loved the attention they got in return. He was a spectacular dog dad and those dogs were so spoiled with love, but never to the point of rotten. He wouldn’t have had that. They were so well behaved, he oftentimes mused he would have liked for E and me to have been so well behaved.

Daddie adored his neighbors, and loved his community. I recently learned he was referred to as the Mayor of Reva.
Oh how that fits him! He was the first to make sure everyone was well sorted and had what they needed and he didn’t hesitate to offer a hand when someone he cared about needed help. He was proud to live there on the corner where he could keep watch over his neighbors and friends.
Weren’t we all so lucky to have such a man looking out for us?

My dad had so much love in him. He didn’t know exactly how to show it sometimes, but he loved each of us the best way he knew how.
His fear of being unloved was so great that he kept a secret for most of his life, when he finally told that secret, the way he loved changed. He was finally able to give and receive love with his entire self, and what a joy that was to behold!
When he told me he was gay, I told him I wasn’t surprised and if he was happy and had love in his life that was all I wanted for him.
When I told the girls, Thing 2 expressed she knew something was different, the last time she saw him, but didn’t realize what it was. She was glad he trusted us enough to share such an important truth. Thing 1 told me she was so proud of him, and she asked if it was bad if she said she thought she actually loved him even more after she knew. My response to her was how could it be bad to love someone more than you already did.
I was proud of Daddie for telling his biggest truth and embracing the love that came at him because of it. He was so frightened that he would be judged and become suddenly unloved I don’t think he could believe how much love and support was offered him.

The last time YBW and Daddie and I had lunch together, he was teasing us because we’re “so cute” together, that we’re so good for each other, that he hoped to find a love like we have discovered. He talked about how I was the truest me with YBW, that he hadn’t seen this Robynbird since I was a little girl, and he was sure that I was as wonderful for YBW as he is for me.
But then, he leaned across the table and told YBW: you know, I’m an ex-cop and if you hurt her, I can make it so your body is never found.
I said: DADDIE!
But YBW looked at him and smiled: you don’t scare me.
And my dad laughed, because he knew they had that moment of perfect understanding, where they both loved me and it was good.
I wished so much for him to find that special person to love him for who he was and help him be the best him he could be.
Perhaps for him that truest love is between him and his God.

I’ve experienced so many feelings in the last twenty two days. The initial shock and disbelief, and then the beautiful agony of seeing his body before they took it from his home, a blessing for which I will be eternally grateful. The pressure in my chest when the realization hit me, the pain of having to share this news with the people I love most, as well as people I hardly know. The love and support that has come to me and my family is overwhelming. Moments of remembering which cause wild cackling laughter, and those that bring the flood of tears. Helping my babies grieve the loss of their grandfather, and allowing them to help me grieve my own loss. The joy of reconnecting with my brother and feeling awful that this is the reason why. I have cried silent tears and huge gut wrenching sobs. I am an orphan now. It doesn’t seem fair. I’m selfish, I want my Daddie and he’s never coming back. My sadness has created physical pain, the exhaustion seems never ending…
All these feelings churning inside me as I grieve the loss of my dad, but one feeling has come up more than any. One feeling surrounds all the others.
I feel peaceful.
I am peaceful in my grief.

My dad lived his life. He loved and learned and lost.
He went from this life so quickly, just the way he would have wanted.
He wanted nothing but love and peace. And that’s what he has now.
We will continue to grieve, we are selfish, I am selfish, I want to have him here with me.
But he will always be with me. Because we loved each other and that love will always be ours.
That love brings me peace.
I wish each of you the peace I feel.

Categories: death, loss, love, me | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

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