Thanksgiving...

I have written half a dozen blog posts in my head in the last month or so but none of them have made it past that initial stage in my head. There are so many things I want to share but am not sure I really want to put it out there. So for today I'll focus on the "holiday season" without my Dad.

I love the holidays.  I LOVE Thanksgiving.  I miss my Dad.  I know it will be hard for me to be around all of my family and know something is missing.  One of the other wrenches (so to speak) is that this is such an amazing and fun time with Christian.  He has his eyes wide open to so many new things and three years old is just so much fun.  I don't want anything to mar this holiday for him and it is my responsibility to pull it together for him so that doesn't happen. 

Holidays are a big deal in my family.  For Thanksgiving we still spend it with my extended family and there are so many people who are there with us.  All of my aunts, uncles and cousins and even some stragglers who have no where else to go.  For Christmas my parents always did a big dinner on Christmas Eve and we opened our presents.  It is one of my favorite nights of the year.  I will miss my Dad every day between now and that night and beyond. 

Finding the balance between grief and joy is always a problem for me.  Feeling in one moment like my life is so blessed and then feeling the pain and loss of my Dad being gone just feels so odd to me.  How will I ever become comfortable with that?

My final words

I haven't shared the words of my eulogy on here and really wanted to do so.  I adore the life I had with my Dad and could have written pages and pages about what he did for me from the time of my birth to the time of his death.  I narrowed it down to a few key points. 

My Dad never met a stranger. If you were a friend of a friend – you were his friend.  If you were his friend, you belonged in his family.  He didn’t have the best example of how to be a family or how to be a father but even without that example, he was the most amazing Dad I could have hoped for.  The one thing we all wanted to get across about him was that his family was his life and his life was his family.

I could tell you a thousand stories about my Dad and examples of how he loved us.  He was our soccer coach and our softball coach.  He served on our school board, voted in a by a church he wasn’t even qualified to be a member of.  He drove us to swim lessons, tennis lessons and school.  He brushed our hair and put it in ponytails.  He chaperoned our school dances and field trips.  He knew our friends and their parents.  He would be the first to push us harder or console us if we lost.  He buried us in the sand at the beach and drug us around Disneyland, even when he wasn’t feeling well.  He encouraged us to dream about our future and then helped us come up with a plan to achieve that dream.  He stood beside us during the most important days of our lives.  He held our children and became to them a Grandfather who, if possible, loved them as much as we do.  He told us constantly how proud he was of us, how much he loved us and how important family was. At this time, more than any other, I know how much those lessons mean to me. 

My Dad’s generous spirit was his most amazing quality.  He would give you the moon if he thought you needed it.  He gave to me more than I can ever thank him for.  “Whatever you need.” That was his favorite thing to say.  He never put limits on his generosity, even when he should have. I hope he knew how much his generosity was appreciated.  I remember a few years ago I started a new job and was so anxious about what I would do at lunch time because I didn’t know anyone.  For three days in a row he drove to my office and met me for lunch.  He never questioned why I was so nervous or told me I was being ridiculous.  He just came when I called and told me he’d keep doing it for as long as I needed. 

Years ago my Mom made a cross stitch that said something like this, “Parents who are lucky in their children, have children who are lucky in their parents.”  Today I smile because I am one of the three luckiest people in this room.  I cry because the man that made me feel so lucky, is now gone.  Bobby, Heather and I are so blessed to be able to say that we were raised by a man who adored us and truly enjoyed us.  It’s no secret to most that I am my Father’s daughter.  He and I share the same sense of humor and the same ability to talk the ear off of a deaf man.  I hope and pray I also am as compassionate, kind and selfless as he was.  The greatest lessons I ever learned, I learned from him.  The greatest gift I can give my Dad now is to take all of these lessons and make him proud.  I promise you Dad, I will make you proud.  I will miss you as long as I live. 

floating back in

It's been a while since my last entry in my blog.  It's not that I don't have anything to write about.  It's actually that I have too much and don't know where to start.  So much has happened the last couple of months, some good and some bad.  I'll save the specifics for specific posts because it really just is too much to summarize in one post.  Rest assured, I'll get to it all!

Lately I feel like I've been hanging on to a lot of anger and sadness.  I am the kind of person who hates to hold a grudge but also can't resolve my own feelings and pain.  It's a tough thing to balance.  I am certainly not in favor of doing it my way, I just don't know how to let it all go, forgive and forget. 

When my Dad died we had so many amazing people step up to help us out.  As soon as my extended family found out he died, they came running.  We weren't at my parents house for more than 30 minutes before my aunts, uncles and cousins came to be with us.  It wasn't long before my parents close friends joined us as well. For hours these people sat by us as we waited for the funeral home to come to pick up my Dad.  They paced with us, cried with us and supported us. 

In the days after my Dad died my Mom's house was overflowing with activity.  We received flowers, cards, visitors and more support.  There were phone calls with inquiries to help and so much support came to us from those we love.  We were so blessed to have those people stand beside us during those very difficult days.  I wish I could only focus on those people.

What I can't stop thinking about it the two people in my family that have still, to this day not said one word in regards to my Dad's death.  I have two cousins who have not even reached out to say they were sorry my Dad died.  Neither attended his funeral, one lives out of state and obviously couldn't attend.  The other never called or responded to my calls so I don't know why she didn't come to the funeral.

I kept thinking that we'd here from them and to some extent I still think that.  I think it's crazy that they can't see how much this would hurt us to not have them reach out.  It's astonishing to think that my Dad meant so little to them.  I know people will say that sometimes people don't know what to say or what to do.  My argument is this - that is fucking ridiculous!  You say SOMETHING.  You don't say nothing.  You don't ignore the situation.  It's ridiculous to think that you wouldn't send a card, make a call or send a TEXT message for crying in the night.  Even before this happened to me I knew that.

I want to be able to move past this but for me it's hard.  I just don't think I'll ever be able to look at the two of them the same.  I'll never be able to trust them with my feelings or my friendship.  What I really want might not happen.  I really want them to tell me they are sorry for my pain and that they feel the loss as well.  I won't expect that will happen, now or ever.

Ultimately we received so much love from people during this difficult time.  It still continues to pour in.  I still have people ask me how I am doing and have people reach out to support me.  I am so blessed.  I don't want to focus on those that didn't do anything when I can focus on all of those that did so much. 

therapy...

Well, I did it.  I decided to reach out and admit defeat.  Well, partial defeat.  I could feel my level of anxiety and depression increasing and my ability to cope was decreasing.  Rather than let the CRAPPY feeling continue without a fight, I called a therapist and made an appointment. 

I don't really think that going to therapy is defeat. I work in the behavioral health field for crying out loud.  For me though, I felt like I didn't want to admit I couldn't deal with it alone.  The problem was, it wasn't just my Dad's death.  It has become an inability to deal with the person my Mom has become and not being able to help her cope/deal/mourn/live.  I also work full time, am a wife and a mother and want to do it ALL and do it well. 

I noticed things were getting bad when I would feel so anxious on Sunday evenings about having to go to work and thinking SERIOUSLY about quitting my good paying job.  I have always loved working and have loved being a productive, working member of society.  I enjoyed working after becoming a Mom and have always wanted to continue.  So, feeling like work was a noose around my neck was scary to me.  I then recognized that I could feel the anxiety a lot more than I wanted to believe.  It's not a scared or nervous feeling as much as it is a pit in my stomach.  It's an inability to get a full and deep breath.

My first appointment was full of Ah Ha moments!  At one point the therapist said to me, "Have you ever been depressed."  I replied No, of course not. She said, "You are depressed now".  Oh.  Oh, I see.  I guess you're right.  I am.  Ahhhhhh!! 

The therapist recommended medication for the anxiety and I politely declined that entry on any service plan.  See, I took valium once and I absolutely adored it.  I mean, hold hands and skip through the park in love - adored it!  I come from a family who tends to over imbibe in substances and I don't want to take that path.  I have a fear that I would grow to need that medication more than I should. So, I made a deal to take some homeopathic medication, try some methods to relax (yoga, reiki are two of my ideas) and continue talk therapy. 

So, I have made a committment to myself to work through this and accept some help!  I feel better about having relinquished some of the control and allowing someone to help me.  I look forward to the journey of wellness. 

Better?

It's been a while since I've felt the urge to blog.  Maybe I feel better?  Probably a bit but more than that, it's just been hard to put into words how I feel.  Lately I feel like the hardest thing I do is balance my own grief with the grief my Mom feels. 

My parents were married for 40 years.  My Mom was only 18 when they got married.  She has never really lived without my Dad.  The marriage they had was no where near perfect but it really was a true partnership.  In the 40 years they were married, my Mom never had to make a decision by herself.  Now, there are several big decisions she needs to make and this paralyzes her.  She needs the help of myself and my siblings.  We are more than willing to help.  We want my Mom to be happy and find some peace in her life. 

When my Mom calls me in tears I immediately feel sick to my stomach and the sadness falls over me.  I begin to worry so much about her and whether or not she'll ever feel joy in her life.  I know some will say I have to not worry so much but it is impossible.  Part of dealing with the death of a loved one is hoping everyone comes out on the other side with peace.  It's not just about me, it's about us. 

The goal for me is learning how to comfort and support my Mom while still comforting myself.  It's a constant battle and it's one I rarely win.  I will keep trying and keep striving to be supportive while still taking time to take care of myself.  I'm actually considering some therapy.  I tried a psychic (story for another day) and realized it might be good for me to spend some time talking about how I feel.  It's important for me to honor the memory of my Dad by being a good mother, wife, daughter, sister and aunt. 

Conflicting emotions

I write this blog with the evening news playing in the background, dinner in the oven and my son reading to himself on the couch.  We are all still damp from our afternoon dip in our backyard pool.  Life feels OK right now. 

While we floated in the pool this afternoon, the sun beating down on us, I felt so complete and at peace.  At one point my husband and I were holding my son who had his head laid alternately on my shoulder and then my husbands.  I thought, "these are the best days of my life'.  Then I thought that seems so weird.  How can I feel so at peace in one moment and so depressed and lost in the next.

I recognize that feelings are not mutually exclusive.  I can feel all of these and feel them completely and fully.  It feels wild to me though to feel like I'd never want to be anywhere else and then want to close my eyes and turn back the clock.  The horrible thing is, if I go back I lose and gain so much.  And you can't go back anyway... right?? 

Father's Day

Today is the first Father's Day I cannot call my Dad to say Happy Father's Day.  I threw it out there in the universe this morning, hoping he heard me or felt me.  I feel a bit sad and very nostalgic today.  I am remembering all of the things that made my Dad so very special to me. 

My Dad was hilarious.  So funny.  I always felt like he was the funniest person I knew.  He had the quickest wit and a very dry, sarcastic sense of humor.  I like to think I get my sense of humor from him.  He and I were for sure, the most alike.  I can remember being a little girl and laughing so hard and some of my Dad's jokes.  I felt so proud to have a funny man for my Dad.

My Dad was not your typical Dad.  When I was growing up and went to my houses of friends, there Dad's were so different from mine.  My Dad cooked, cleaned, did laundry and all of the other things that weren't typical "Dad" duties.  I didn't grow up in a house that followed the typical gender roles.  My parents both worked and both took care of the house responsibilities.  They also both took equal responsibility of us kids. 

My Dad was a PROUD Father of his three kids.  He never missed a sporting event or school event if he could help it.  When we were older he worked in sales and worked into the evenings but he tried really hard, even then, to come to our games or school events.  If he couldn't make it he always asked about it and told us how proud he was of us.  He was out of work when my sister was playing volleyball in her senior year.  He went to every game and video taped them all.  He was so proud of her!!  He bragged about us to other people, just loud enough so we could hear him!

My Dad was a devoted Grandfather to all of our children.  From my niece, who is nineteen to the newest Brown baby, Caleb, my Dad was so excited about all of his Grandkids!  He held them, rocked them, played with them, talked to them and loved them.  In the last year he wasn't working and went to so many of my nephew Robert's football, basketball and baseball games.  He helped my Brother with my nephew Jacob's basketball team and tried to spend time with all of the other kids.  His eyes would light up when the kids entered the room. 

My Dad wanted to help all of us make our lives easier.  When my husband and I moved into our house after we returned to Arizona, we started some renovations.  My Dad offered to be here daily to help oversee the operation while we worked.  He also did some of the work for us and coordinated many of our efforts in making our new house our home.  He helped with everything from painting to pulling up tile to staying on top of our crew installing the new tile in our house.  We couldn't have done it without him!!

My Dad had high expectations of us and wanted us to be productive adults.  He pushed us hard when we were growing up.  He always expected we'd give 100% to whatever we did - and we tried.  He was plugged into our lives enough that he knew what was expected at school and we couldn't really bull shit him.  He attended parent teacher conferences and signed report cards.  There was never a "wait until your Father hears this" because he always seemed to know already!! 

My Dad was an amazing Dad and I miss him terribly.