A Dad's Birthday

I woke up with the strongest sense and presence of my father, and in my groggy state, couldn't figure out where it was coming from. You know that state of mind when you have to put all the pieces of reality in place, because for that moment in time, you are someplace else, maybe in a memory, maybe in a dream, maybe in a spiritual visit, nonetheless, it takes a minute to come to the present. Often, that altered state is pleasant and happy, even euphoric, but then it is lost, and the reality of life as we know it is upon us. I have learned, through loss, and life's lessons, that the euphoric state doesn't need to be lost, we can hold on tight to the love and feelings, even while dealing with the reality. This morning, I had a beautiful sense of a party, a big cookie cake, smiling daughters as they presented the gifts, and I was feeling quite good, still fuzzy, and altered, but good. Well, of course, it was a distinct memory of a happy birthday for my father, and then I realized just why this was significant. His birthday is tomorrow, 12/12, as he would say! He also shared his birthday with Frank Sinatra, which was truly meaningful in some ways, to him, at least I think so, because he always reminded me of that fact. Well, once the dream and memory faded a bit, I was brought to the reality that Dad is not here, he has been gone for 6 years and would be 78 years old tomorrow. He was not intended to be with us this long, he had lived long enough according to him, and to be honest, he was never the same in the eight years he lived without my mother. His death didn't take the same course for those left behind as it did when our mother passed away, or certainly since our daughter. That is not to say that grieving didn't exist, for each of us, it truly does, but we understood, in new ways, just how God works His magic. We also know that God taught us lessons through the experience of Dad's cancer diagnosis, his own 11 weeks from diagnosis to death, what it means for a family to come together as their last parent leaves this earth, leaving the children to find their way in a new phase of adulthood. There was not a man who loved his children and grandchildren more and to think that right now he is reunited with one of them, well, that cannot cause him the pain it would have had he been alive to know it. He surely knows, in the spiritual realm, that a glorious reunion took place and we will all have that moment, as promised to those of us who accept the gift of salvation. That is my hope this morning, as the dream faded, and for a minute, I felt very sad and disoriented...I miss him at all times, and I can honestly say how deeply I wish he could have been here through my own loss, but that is selfish. It was not meant to be, it was destined that he was there, waiting to embrace his grandaughter, and leave the lessons for the other grandchildren, the legacy, the mark, the imprint of poise, dignity, empathy, love and care. And, tomorrow, on his birthday, maybe I can share a story or two of this man and how I came to find out more about him, long after he was gone.

I feel blessed that I can smile sweetly when I think of my father and his birthday, that I have moved through and past the pain of cancer, the grueling last weeks where we tended to him at home, where we fed him through a feeding tube, where we monitored medicines and sat by his bedside, where my sister held his hand and listened to his stories or when my brother watched the beloved Patriots team, all in the little room that became his haven, the room with the big window, where he could watch the reruns of his life, and know that he had lived the life chosen for him. Now I can remember the man who watched from the sidelines, who gave to all he could, who had a special look in his eye for his grandsons and granddaughters, who understood life, and taught me to never sweat the small stuff, that any problem has a solution. Little did I know how much I could learn from the actions, not the words, of one man. Happy Birthday to my dad, with love, Kathy