Happy Birthday Dad

It was his 43rd birthday. 1987. He was living in Orange County CA and I was a student at Michigan State University. He rarely ever called me and I realized I hadn't heard from him in a while and of course realized it was his birthday, so I called him at his office.

When his secretary answered the phone and I asked for him, she first said he wasn't there. I made a casual joke about him taking his birthday off and then she told me that he no longer worked there. He had worked there for as long as I could remember. Perhaps for as long as I had been alive, 20 years or more... I called his home. The number was disconnected.

My parents had been working on a divorce for about 3 years. It had been ugly and filled with accusations, mostly my mother accusing him, and probably mostly true. I didn't want to ask my mom if she knew anything, because I didn't feel like I wanted to hear her go on a tirade. I thought he'd resurface in a week or two. Surely he'd call.

It was several weeks before I finally asked my mom if she knew anything about his whereabouts. She said he'd been served papers for back child support and he'd skipped out. she said he loved his money more than his kids. She said he'd been served with the final divorce papers. She also said that my younger brother Dan, who had lived with him, was now living with his girlfriend. I called Dan.

"Dad decided to sail around the world", was the answer to my question. I wondered why he hadn't told me. I wondered why now. I wondered when I'd hear from him again? I wondered if he was a good enough sailor for such a trip. I wondered for years. I didn't hear from him again for over 4 year.

Happy 65th birthday Dad.

In love

It's true that I fall in love often. when I was younger I inherently disliked people. I think that I believed on some level that I was always in competition with others. Maybe that's rooted in the fact that I was raised in a family of 4 kids, by parents who probably should not have had children. They weren't evil or cruel parents, they were simply young and self-centered. They were in over their heads and spent most of our childhood putting out fires, rather than cultivating our well-being. Their marriage was a mess all along, so their needs weren't met. As I've discovered as an adult, when I am lacking I am unable to give to my loved ones. That fight for yourself drive has served me well in many ways, and I am thankful for that, but the drawback is that I had a tendency to see others as competitors.

A typical introduction would include my sizing up whether the new person was more intelligent, attractive or skilled than I was. I was quit adept at finding other's flaws, then discounting their personal value. Then I hit bottom.

I found that I had become the most reprehensible of people. I was fat, dependent, ill and weak. I was depressed, broken and angry. I struggled to find a reason for my existence. I had always been led to believe that I was only as valuable as my contribution to the world. I had nothing to contribute. I had no value. Then the switch flipped.

I believe it was God that lightened my heart. But understand that I God was present in my therapist. God was present in my friends. God was present in my husband and kids. The switch flipped and I realized that although there was little I could change about my circumstances I was fully empowered to change the way I experienced and responded to them. I had an overwhelming feeling of being beloved. It passed, but I practiced bringing it back. I prayed, meditated, did positive self-talk. I decided to be oblivious. I quit analyzing others and strove to accept all things at face value - even when I was confident that there was an underlying current. I ignored it and appreciated the positive things in all encounters. I soon began to believe my own rhetoric. I began to see the good in all people. I wasn't blind to flaws, others or my own, but I didn't let them become the defining attributes. I slowly began to fall in love with people.

I love the crazy, stupid things we do. I love the egregious flaws we all carry. I love the courage with which we are willing to fail. I love the hope that lives beyond reason.

long good-byes

How do you want to die? I'm not sure why I wondered this as a kid and young adult, but I remember having conversations with numerous people that included me asking them this. Invariably the answer was almost always "die quickly, painlessly in my sleep". I wanted to be oblivious to the fact that my life was ending. I wanted to ignore the reality of my own mortality. I no longer wish for this. Of course I'd like to die painlessly. I'm too big a coward to want anything less. However, I think I'd like notification of it's approach. Maybe this attitude has changed because I've aged and have no delusions about my own mortality. Maybe it's changed because I fear that I'll die with too much unfinished business. Maybe it's changed because my to-do list is so long and I'd hate to die without completing it. As a matter of fact, I have a pact with a friend that when I die, she'll come in and clean my pig sty of a home before the funeral home even gets here. Perhaps my attitude has changed simply because I want to be able to give her advance notice! Whatever the reason, I know it has changed. I have had the privilege of knowing and loving several people who have died while in the care of hospice. Perhaps those experiences have helped me to see the beauty in a long good-bye. I've watched as they reminded family and friends of the deep love they shared. I've been blessed by shared laughs and memories exchanged for the last time. I treasure those memories near the end, when I was able to be at a bedside and hold a hand, kiss a forehead, say a prayer. Sometimes just sitting quietly next to a bed reading a book, while my friend slept. There is something holy in those moments. I no longer want to protect my loved ones from those moments. Rather, I hope for them that they will have an opportunity to be in such sacred moments. I hope that I have the courage to say and do those things that will allow me to die in peace. I certainly try to be courageous and brave in my graciousness and forgiveness now. I try to proactively keep regrets and grudges out of my life. But daily they seem to come and go and I know that regardless of how hard I try, if I die without warning I will leave with some unfinished business. Perhaps that's my new delusion that, with appropriate warning I can die without regrets...

reflections on my father

My dad's birthday is July 24. This will be the second birthday since he died. I suppose if we'd had a normal relationship, this would be a more momentous date, but I saw my dad only 3 times in the last 20 years of his life. His choice, not mine. I expected I'd have a sense of unfinished business when he died. I wonder if there is something wrong with me because I don't. 

He was a good dad while he was around. I felt like he loved me, the best he could. I believed that he was proud of me. I don't know why he looked at me and my 3 siblings and decided to walk away. There was a time when I asked that question, but long ago I realized that it was unanswerable. 

Today I thank God for the Dad that I had. I pray that his soul is at peace in death, in a way that he never seemed to be in life. 

Redemption

I'm struggling today to find hope amidst desperation. I want to cry out from the Psalms "Why have you forsaken me?" though I cry out not for myself, but rather for others. I feel gratefully guilty for the ease with which I live my life. Yet I feel the weight in my chest that I recognize as grief. I wish that I was the kind of person who could ignore the suffering around me. I wish that strictly out of selfishness. I have no respect for the people I know who are capable of this, yet I envy their ignorance.

Help me find hope in the fact that a healthy 26 year old gets drunk and jumps out of a moving vehicle. Help me find hope in the addiction of a smart, robust 21 year old man. Help me find hope in a mother and son together in hospice care. Help me find hope in alzheimer's disease slowly eating away the memories. Help me find hope in an 8 year old with incurable cancer and painful side effects of treatment. Help me find hope in the life of a 6 year old with brain injury so devastating he'll never walk nor talk.

I take a  deep breath. I remind myself of previous losses. I remember the death of friends and the beauty of the lessons that the end of their lives offered. I remember visits in the ICU where the stillness of the moments felt sacred. I remember my need to be humbled before I could be redeemed. I guess this is where faith comes into the picture. I wait, I trust, I hope that redemption will arrive

At this moment

The time now is just after 8PM. I sit in my family room, propped on my couch with a pillow behind my back and my feet on the coffee table. My tiny new apple notebook sits on my lap. I am wearing a long sleeved, short red night shirt with Victoria's Secret embroidered on the front and a pair of my husbands boxers. My feet, legs and back ache. My hair is wet from a shower completed about an our ago. My face, hands and feet are coated in various lotions of mild perfume. 

My 90 lb weimaraner and 5 pound rat terrier sit on a bench beneath one of the large windows. The tan broadcloth curtains are pulled open enough for Riley, the weimaraner to observe all that goes on in the back yard. The stuffed to duck, which has been eviscerated by the dogs, lies on the bench, wedged up against the wall. A neon orange flea comb sits in the center of the left half of the bench.

The television, which is showing "The Matrix" its atop a three shelf pine unit. On the top shelf is the AT&T U-Verse box, with 2 white Wii game cases on top of it. Next to the box is a clear plastic container that holds 4 Wii controllers, a few papers seem to have found a default residence next to them.

On the middle shelf is the DVD/VCR player. An orange light flasher on the interface next to a solid orange light. The word disc is visible in the display. On top of the player is the Wii fit board. beside these two is the Wii console. 

On the bottom shelf a dozen or so DVd cases lay tipped over onto a small stack of CDs. Next to the CDs is a wire mesh crate that appears to house other CDs. the wires from teh many electronics protrude to the left of the book shelf. 

Life is so cluttered with these details it is easy to lose track of what is important. Today I relish in the thought that I have what I need. I find joy in the garden I hoed this afternoon. I am proud of the job I performed today with a level of skill. I enjoyed a quiet dinner from the garden with my 17 year old daughter. I laughed at the inch worm I apparently brought in on the salad greens. I am blessed.

Waiting patiently

Surgery was today. Granny was finally scheduled for surgery, after breaking her hip/leg on Monday. She's been in the hospital since about noon on Monday. No treatments, just pain management all day Monday and Tuesday. Finally today they decided she was well enough for the surgery. She was scheduled for noon surgery. she was taken to pre-op about noon, and into surgery at 1pm. We were told it would be about 45 minutes for surgery, then a couple hours in recovery before returning to her room. 

About 2:30 the surgeons came to tell us that she had successfully made it through surgery. They had successfully reattached the ball on her femur with a metal plate and 3 screws. The recovery room would page us when she was ready for a visitor. According to the doctors it should be within the hour. 

At 5 minutes before 4, the clerk in the recovery room turned off the lights and left. My sister checked her watch and noted that the she, the clerk, had skipped out a little early. She was the woman who had given us the pager, and we wondered amongst ourselves who we would turn the pager into when we were paged. Then we continued to wait. Law and Order came on the tv and we settled into the story line. 

At the first commercial break we commented that it was surprising we hadn't heard. By 4:15 the anxiety was starting to rise, wondering why she wasn't ready for visitors yet. At 4:30 the question in my mind was whether something had gone wrong in recovery. At 4:45 my aunt was curled in a ball on a recliner, commenting that she wasn't sure she wanted to know what was going on. My sister said she was going to go to the recovery room at 5, if they hadn't come out. My mother questioned whether everyone had gone home and left Granny there by herself. I grabbed the pager and headed down the hall to recovery.

When I went through the doors marked "Do Not Enter" I saw a small desk, surrounded by about a dozen beds each enclosed with a curtain. No one was at the desk no visible bed was occupied. I walked around each corner looking behind curtains, finding each bed vacated. Not a soul was in the ward.

I walked back to the waiting room and told them what I had found. We grabbed our belongings, dropped the pager at the locked up clerk's window and headed for the elevator hoping that she was returned to her room. Each harboring a small fear that she might not be there. 

We took the elevator to the third floor, found her room and there she slept. Soundly in her room. Tiny Granny, 4 feet 10 inches and 90 pounds barely made a mound on the bed. Her eyes were closed peacefully and her mouth hung open, oblivious to the ruckus her disappearance had caused. Sleep peacefully tonight Granny.