Wednesday, April 6, 2011

What I Wrote Before I Knew

I have things to say about my Dad.
First - I miss him.
Sometimes at night, I cry into a pillow on the couch while everyone else is asleep. I do this because the kind of crying I give myself to, the crying that comes with saying "My father is dead", is not the kind of crying that is easy to do in front of other people. There is an abandon to it that makes other people so unsure of what to do. And the truth is they don't need to do anything. Except Matt, who needs to hold me occasionally while I cry the cry that would be humiliating if it weren't making the tears that fall to my Father's grave.

My journal keeps my memories for me. Once I write down the goings-on in my head, I can let go of them mentally. Thus, it is always a bit of a surprise to go back and read. The details of my life live in the pages far more than they live in my head.

There are a series of entries I will share. They are the spiritual prescience of saying goodbye, while goodbye was still still beyond the horizon.

Here is the first - written just as Jonah was getting over a severe facial tic that seemed devastating at the time:


02 Sep 2009 Wed
I have periodically wondered at the goodness of our life, and how I will react when something threatens that. I fear now that I am fragile, in a way I was not familiar with. This has been only a brush with trial - not actually trial itself - and I have nearly fallen apart. What I know is that I was recovering emotional strength before Jonah was recovering physically. I DO have something in me that can move past fear and carry on with life. I must foster that ability in preparation for whatever hits next.

03 Sep 2009 Thurs
Television is bad.

05 Sep 2009 Sat
Two hours on the strip in Las Vegas reminds me why we make so much effort, work so hard to remove ourselves from the world. Hedonistic indulgence offers me nothing - it cannot persuade me. I am a daughter of God. I am a woman of virtue pursuing something very different.

06 Sep 2009 Sun
Matthew -- tomorrow I regain thy presence. Always a sweet reunion.

3 comments:

aubtobobtolob said...

I rarely write it all down. But I do love thinking of him eating soup with us and saying he loves us and going out the door... who ever knows it will be the last time?

chaniriiell said...

I cried today while at my computer. I often get the urge to go to his facebook, or reread emails/messages from him, although I know it will make me sad. When I do decide to go back and read through these things, it's kind of like saying "all right, chan, it's time to let some heavy tears go".
I have the stack of pictures that I contributed to the slide show sitting on top the record player. They just sit there. I haven't framed any. I haven't moved them. They're just in a big pile of woe, and I every time I go to leave through my front door, I notice them sitting there. Sometimes I look through them if no one's home. I cry. I'm crying now. It happens, I guess. Sometimes, I don't go through them. I pass them by. Those are the times I know I'm not ready to let the tears go.
It still seems unreal. I still half expect a nervous breakdown when it REALLY sets in. I hope that doesn't happen.
I know what you mean about crying by yourself. There is too much heartache to be shared with other people. It is mine alone. And yours alone. And I think the only time it can be shared is when we are together as a family. And perhaps, not even then.
I miss him so much. I'm having a hard time today. I don't know why.
I love you.

JaeReg said...

I love you both. What bitter loss. What blessed goodness to have each other.