Random Thoughts

            Right Now I’m sitting in a tilt-back chair. Mom is to my right. In their (her and dad’s) living room are matching burgundy chairs. It’s really weird that I keep wanting to use present tense when talking about dad. The Grammar Nazi side of me wants to keep going back and changing that. Maybe I shouldn’t. Maybe flipping verb tenses is fine in this situation. It shows where my mind is.

            I’m working on a poem to help share my thoughts and honor dad the day I buried him. My brain started working on that poem the day before his burial. However, I just didn’t have the time or energy to complete it. If I had, I would have probably had pastor share it at his service. But, I had to just choose something else I had written and save that writing for later. I worked quite a bit on the final words pastor would read and went back and forth between two pieces—one based on my blog post, ALL GOD’S LOVE, and another based on my blog post, The Fragility of Memory. I eventually felt the latter one was more personal. Mom liked both.

            Yesterday, after all the hustle and bustle of today, is the first I’ve really gotten some peaceful sleep. I may have to write a little and sleep on and off as I go through the process. I mentioned in a previous post my struggles with organized religion. It may be helpful in this post to somewhat summarize them. Dad’s death is both pushing me back to a faith that began in childhood and is forcing me to also evaluate it. I don’t think I’m losing my faith. I think I’m figuring through what it really means as well as what the Ekklesia means. Later I think I’ll have to expand these threads. Right now, in the middle of the post, I think I’m going to try and get some more sleep and continue later.

            Writing through this is a weird process. I’m thinking about dad, but yet I’m also focused on the writing process. It’s almost both a way to remember and a way to provide my mind a needed distraction. Anyhow, I said I was going to try and get some more sleep. So, nighty night post.

            It’s 9:01 a.m. now. I was able to get some deep sleep. I did change positions a few times (between the tilt-back chair and mom's couch) and also left a few notes to remind myself of things to work through with dad. I think I’m going to need to buy a voice recorder so when thoughts come in the night, I don’t have to turn on a light or my computer and write something down.

            I did have moments where I could hear dad, mom and my brother talking throughout the night—just floating images in my mind. Some of the words weren’t even words they were saying or would say. I think my mind was just putting words and sometimes my thoughts into their mouth. I can't really remember those words.

            Let me sharing some of the things I wrote down on a notepad I was keeping by my side. Mom gave it to me a few days ago as I asked if she had a notepad and she is also going to jot down notes we will talk about as I put together memoirs. These little notes are things I will be talking about in future posts:

Kissing dads forehead of his cadaver

The way he felt

wrinkly skin on his hands

Something on dad’s hands

Remembering dad’s sickness/health problems doesn’t diminish him. Shows his strength through how he connected strongly with others even when he wasn’t his best * < this is a post that will deserve some attention

If I can get the clothes dad was found in from the funeral home, I think I will to help jog memories

            On the note on dad’s sickness, I did put an asterisk and an arrow connecting the comment about that post deserving some attention. I have been thinking and will need to share some of the deep struggles dad faced. I don’t think he would have wanted me to share those with others while he was alive. It would have embarrassed him. But, I need to work through them. And, I think sharing these things will help others. In the long run, if dad knew sharing these hard memories could help others (particularly his sons), he would have reluctantly given permission to share and then as it brought healing he would have been so glad he did. Before going through and editing this post, I talked to mom briefly about this idea. She said that she had told dad that when he got better he was going to share his story and it would help others. Then I said something to the effect that dad is well now and his story will go on through me telling it.

            It is amazing how much dad impacted others even while he was sick. One of his nurses, Kim Dalton, just adored dad. He was also adored by Joe and Ben who helped him with hyperbaric treatment. He had two speech therapists, Sarah (at Pebble Creek) and Jessica (later when dad was home), who connected with dad—especially Jessica. According to mom, she took it pretty hard when she heard of dad’s loss. Mom said Jessica said she had learned so much from dad. Yes, she had learned from him! For me, knowing how much dad touched others, even the sick dad who wasn’t at his best, is testament to his heart. Even in his sickness, he brightened other people’s lives.

            I know my thoughts in these posts are somewhat disjointed at points and I may start ideas and not complete them. So, I think I’m going to end this post now. I need to go back and edit and proofread and then I’ll post. I’m going to have to grieve in waves and will share what I want when I want to deal with it.