Dream...

I drempt about you tonight during a nap.

We were looking at photos, some of them were of me though I have never seen them in my waking life. I commented that I looked like my mom in one of them and you steped behind me to look at it and agree. It was blurry and I wasn't able to actually see any features but it looked like my shape. Then I found one of you and it was clear as day. You were stepping off of the ramp that leads down onto the deck and where there would normally be boats and dock posts behind you it was clear open ocean. The sky was nearly dark and just at the horizon was a gorgeous sunset. I was amazed at the beauty of the photo and I showed you. I suddenly got very sad and started crying. You wrapped your arms around me and I asked you would you be okay...and then I asked would you go to heaven and you told me you didn't want to go there and I said "well, will you stay and watch over me?" and you started to explain something, holding me as I cried, and I woke up.

Happy Father's Day...

Happy Father's Day, Dad...

Although I can't buy you a card or mail you a letter, or talk to you on the phone and say it in person, I realize that not even death can take that away from you. It's one of the few things that will never ever change, the fact that you were my Father.

I love you.

Dad..

I wish I was small enough to hold.
I wish you were whole enough to lift me.



I'm supposed to be so big, so grown up and capable of doing it all....and all I want is for my Daddy to come and pick me up and give me whisker rubs and make me forget about anything but his arms around me and how wonderful it is just to be near him.

I miss you. It was always safest with you, my Daddy. How will I find that safe place again, I fear maybe it's gone with you. The world is too big for me Dad, please help me.

Things, and dreaming about you..

Hi Dad, it's been a while. I've been thinking about you a lot in the last few days. The days that used to go by achingly slow are blending into weeks that pass into months and I get past the markers without noticing as much. Like, the 4 month mark since you passed... passed? No, died. Since you died.

I drempt of you. I don't remember the date exactly but it was weeks ago. We were on the boat and you were preparing it for storage and I stopped you to tell you I loved you and I asked you to please hug me. As you did, I told you I would be okay. I promised I'd be okay. You didn't speak. We were both crying.
My god how I miss you, my daddy.

There are times when I think of you and it doesn't really hurt as much. There are times when I think of you and it still hurts the same. Today I was thinking about the day they called to tell me you'd died. I took the news as if I was okay with it, and I realize now that in part, I hadn't cried in order to save the feelings of the poor nurse that had to call and tell me. Why don't they have grief counsellors call you? Why just some random person that we likely have never met? And I feel so bad for the poor man that had to deliver that news. I wondered if he knew I was your daughter. If he said 'well I better call his next of kin, who's listed? Oh, it's his daughter.. okay, calling now.." I bet that's the worst part of his day. He told me he was sorry for my loss. I really could have cared less at the time, I mean, does that make a difference? It's just something he has to say.
I thought about the feelings I had after he told me. At the time, I had felt completely numb. It was like no other feeling I had ever had. Actually, it wasn't even feeling at all.
It was shock, amazement that it was so final. It was like being flung into a gray sky with no ground in sight, no sound, and I was just moving in an unknown direction - I could have been going up or down or east for all I knew. If I close my eyes I can feel it very easily. I can imagine myself moving so silently, in slow motion, wrapping my arms around myself fearful at first but then coming to realize that I'll be suspended like this for a while, and so I wrap myself up and just 'fall', willing to let the emptiness carry me along until the time comes to find my way back, however I'm meant to do that.
And I've kept 'falling' up into that gray sky, endlessly, for months. Only sometimes touching down to connect with reality, but then back out into emptiness again, hoping to reach you or come down and land permanently, something, anything.
Some days I cry from missing you, and that's pretty hard. But hardest, is crying knowing that such a wonderful, amazing and loving person had to hurt for so long and then came to an end that was so final and unfair. It just feels so unjust. And I cry from anger of how unjust it really is. And what makes it worse is it happens to so many people. That right now somewhere someone's daughter is crying over a parent that died in pain. It is just so wrong.

And right now, someone's daughter -is- crying over losing her daddy to cancer.

Found...

Looking through your personal file folders today, in amongst the medical forms, random letters, boat information and tax records I found these..

• A photo of you on the Willeena.. I imagine this is about 5-10 years old. You are in mid-story as you so often were, and unaware of the photographer (because if you were you would have posed for the photo like you preferred to do {like father like daughter..}) and I love how your mess is all around you, as usual. This was a hard discovery to make, but it shows you healthy and connected, so the tears weren't as scary as I thought they might be.

• The next a drawing I'd done for you, of the Willeena.. it's dated 1998, I was 18 years old. I'm always amazed that you've managed to keep pretty much everything I've ever sent or given to you.

• A drawing you did, with a post-it note: '1973 before all that Lord of the Rings Stuff'. (smiles) Thought you had something on those directors huh, Dad? I am amazed and also really comforted by the fact that I think we might have the same drawing style. My boat and your magic man look like they could have been drawn by the same person.

• Then, a poem I'd written for you. You made copies and kept them, you even had someone type up a copy to give out to other people. I remember often hearing you talk about this poem I'd done for you and how you gave it to people to help them, too. I really couldn't remember what the poem said, so finding it today was like finding a piece of myself. You note that I was 16 years old (1996) when I'd written it, you were so proud. It's incredible how true the poem turned out to be.

My Father

Shows a sense beyond his years, heart of bravery, has no fear.

Is in my heart though he's not here.

Is my mentor, a leader, a teacher, is my best friend.

Looks at life with dancing eyes, can turn anything to use.

Gives some hope with a hand to lend, forever giving, never needing.

Broken his bones for all he's gained, take everything but his pride still remains.

Ocean wind is in his heart, his one and only guide,

eternally by his daughter's side, I look upon him with great pride.

He's showed me I can be someone, helped me be who I've become.

I grow up forever knowing, sea blood in my viens in flowing.

I have his will to survive, he's my reason for being alive.

No matter what I'll be his child, I owe my abilities to him, to face the world.

When together we're a determined duet, Enchanter, Inspirator, Composer, Protector.

We're inseperable.

I love you forever, Sarah

About Dad..

I watched something on YouTube today Dad, and it reminded me of you. I wasn't looking for anything specific other than entertainment, perhaps distraction from my busy mind. And when Ivan reached the part about 'what my dad taught me' I started thinking about you, and the things you taught me, and how I live every day of my life using at least one of the skills, or thinking at least one of the thoughts, or acting on one of the lessons you've left me:

When you're done with a plastic shopping bag, you never throw it out - you roll it in a long cylinder and then tie it in a loose knot. Why? It's smaller, you can keep more, and it's tidy - because pretty soon that's going to make a useful trash bag. And keep some in your glovebox, because you can hang them in your truck and keep the floor free of debris, you never want a bottle to roll under your gas pedal.

Wash off your dish in cold water as soon as you're done with it. The soap does the cleaning for you, and then dry it with a bit of paper towel and put it away. Why? You'll need less water, less soap, and less dishes if they're always clean.

Never overstay your welcome. Say please, say thank you. Hold the door for a lady. Respect your elders. Take your time and wait in line. Look both ways when you cross the street.

Your fried rice recipe.

The term "build a spaghetti". It wasn't about making food it was about creating a masterpeice that took time and thought, and was worth the effort.

Save your leftovers and mix them together. Try it, trust me, it will taste good.

Keep things you find that might be useful, even if they're not useful to you - someone else might need it. Keep your eyes open and pay attention. See? Look what I just found - a dollar. That's because I was looking.

Ravens will wait until you're not paying attention, and swoop down to steal your sandwhich. Seagulls won't wait, they'll take it out of your hand. Either way, watch your lunch - and moreso, watch the birds.

Barter.

Carry cash when you want to get things done. When you want to convince someone of something in a business sense, pull out your cash and count it. Cash talks.

Tie good knots, always.

Respect trees. Touch them. They're alive and they know more about the earth than we ever will.

Oatmeal is a really good thing to have for dinner. Pizza is even better. Jellybeans are the best.

Eagles are the earths manifestation of the great spirits that have come before us.

An airplane is a big silver bird. A bus is a big silver boat. A boat is a woman. A woman is a gift.

Big fat earthworms are the "Grand Daddies".

When the it's raining but the sun is still shining that's called a Sunshower, and Sunshowers are special.

Keep quiet and listen. It'll hide what you do know, and help you learn what you don't.

"If you don't like something, change it."

"You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you can get what you need."

Find joy in the little things, one day they'll be all you have.



I love you, Dad. I miss you.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hSfQKw7DGzA&feature=related

Time does not bring relief...

Time does not bring relief

Time does not bring relief; you all have lied

Who told me time would ease me of my pain!

I miss him in the weeping of the rain;

I want him at the shrinking of the tide;

The old snows melt from every mountain-side,

And last year's leaves are smoke in every lane;

But last year's bitter loving must remain

Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide.

There are a hundred places where I fear

To go - so with his memory they brim.

And entering with relief some quiet place

Where never fell his foot or shone his face

I say, 'There is no memory of him here!'

And so stand stricken, so remembering him.


~Edna St Vincent Millay (1892 -1950)




Security


Tomorrow will have an island. Before night

I always find it. Then on to the next island.

These places hidden in the day separate

and come forward if you beckon.

But you have to know they are there before they exist.



Some time there will be a tomorrow without any island.

So far, I haven't let that happen, but after

I'm gone others may become faithless and careless.

Before them will tumble the wide unbroken sea,

and without any hope they will stare at the horizon.



So to you, Friend, I confide my secret:

to be a discoverer you hold close whatever

you find, and after a while you decide

what it is. Then, secure in where you have been,

you turn to the open sea and let go.

~William Stafford

Reflection..

It's been a while since I've written. I just needed to internalize before I shared.

Just now I was brave enough to bring your ashes down from the shelf and set them next to me. It isn't a huge box but it's actually really heavy. I guess it should be.

It's a step closer to being able to spread your ashes. I haven't been able to come to terms with doing that yet. I opened the box and the gold metal tab has your name on it, and the clear bag is filled with grey sand... well it's not sand.. it's ash. It's like that volcanic ash they sell in Washington, they claim it's the ash from when St. Helens erupted... you can buy it in little vials.
So yes, it's ash.

I'm relieved you wanted to be cremated. I couldn't bare burying you... you just aren't the type to lay in a box in the ground. Plus, I get to have you with me in some form, and though I need to let go of your 'body' because you have, it's easier to work out these feelings slowly and gently let you go.
Right now I just hurt. I love you, Dad.
I would give anything to have you back with me, and although I hurt and I cry, I'm starting to accept that you won't ever come back.
I'm trying to process through the memories and the feelings of missing you. The two are so closely tied right now that it's hard to remember you. But the memories come on their own.
Right now I'm thinking of that last huge hug I got from you, the summer before you were diagnosed. You were elated to see me.. we were on the drive back from the train station, and we stopped in a grocery store to get some snacks and use the washroom and as we waited for Julie to come out you wanted a hug. That hug was so hard, I don't know if you've hugged me that hard ever before. You always had such strength in your body, it amazed me to watch you work because you were all muscle even after age 50.. and that hug sure used every one. I wish I had hugged you back as hard as you hugged me.

I won't ever forget just how loved I was by my Daddy. You loved me with everything you had, and I know it. I know how proud I made you, and I saw you as my Father, a parent, someone I could count on for anything, ever... and I love you so much for being that for me. I love you for being the parent I could cry for in my hardest times, I love you for being the example I follow, I love you for being there for me, I love you for being you.

I'm so lucky you were my Dad.

To the 'Late' Leo Picard..

The other day I checked the mail and in it, a goverment letter adressed to "the the estate of the late Leo Picard." How rediculous is that? You're really dead when the government calls you "the late". What is "the late" anyway? I mean, when we're alive we don't adress letters to "the current".. why? Why add the term? Is it to make sure I know you're dead?

I had a dream that you left me a note saying that you heard I was crying and that you wanted to call but you were afraid to upset me more. And I got mad at everyone because you were alive and able to leave me a note and everyone had lied to me and now you wouldn't call.

Things are hard right now Dad. I'm being forced to overcome alot and I'm not being given any clear options. Every day the weight is the same. I want to think "what would dad do.." but you'd probably procrastinate it. I know that's harsh but it's the truth. I don't know what you'd say....

The light from the monitor on my hands makes them look aged. I can see every triangle of lines. Your hands were like that, rough from years of hard physical work. You put your hand on my face when we arrived at the hospital and it was like sandpaper. Sandpaper from years of life on a face with only half as many years. You earned your lines and I'll earn mine. What you'd say... you'd say "you just gotta do what's right."

Trying to get through..

I pause to think about you at times, Dad. I am feeling overwhelmed. Moments are so good, and some so hard. I'm hanging on and trying not to fail you. I got some great news about the value of the boat and I thought to myself "wow, there's a really happy ending here.." and then the news turns out to be wrong, and I think.."wow.. another dissapointment." and Julie is no support really, she barely listens to me. I said something so defeated today and she nodded, her face turned to the TV and said "Yep.. yep.." like I'd made a statement of "Oh well what can you do.." and what I had actually said was I was used to dissapointment. I'm sorry Dad, I was dissapointed in you. The sale of the boat will cover your debt but what's left won't be the grand amount I thought. I was greedy, I'm sorry. It isn't about the money. God dammit I miss you so much and I hate all of this. I just want it to be over. I just want to not worry about all of the little things.

Great.. I started crying just now and I look up and Julie's standing there staring at me like a toddler who doesn't understand. I don't even want to reach out to her, Dad. I miss you so much and nothing is going to comfort this pain. Not money, not her, nothing. Some days I feel like I am completely alone. Nobody can feel the pain I feel. The pain sepperates me from everyone.
I still have so much to do, and it's piling on me and I truly feel like I am avoiding the grief. I can't hear your voice in my head anymore.. it's getting harder to recall. I'm feeling bitter and angry again.

I miss you and you died. You fucking died. And every time I am reminded of that it's like you die all over again.

I want my Daddy. Oh my god I want my Daddy.

Happy Birthday, Dad

Your birthday today. You would be 61.
You never liked it when I made a fuss about your birthday in life. I used to hate that. For the first time ever, I'm actually happy to let it pass without a fuss.

I miss you Dad, things aren't quite the same without you.

Thoughts...

I've been having little moments these past few days, where the reality of your death hits me. I pass your photo and look, really look at your face and then I realize, you're gone. I think of something simple, like how you loved sandwiches made with canned salmon, and the fact is right there in my face, that you died.
It still seems surreal. I mean, once you were alive and now you're not. It feels so final. That you could just 'be' and then not be.
I know they say 'he lives on in you' and so on, and those are nice things to think of but then the simple statement is, that your body no longer lives. Yes your memory is with me, sure, but no amount of remembering will bring your actual self to life. It's... unfair.

(Today marks 6 months since diagnosis.)

From your Bible...

I found this by your bed the day that the boat was broken into. I sat down and opened it and on the first page, you had written this message: "God help us... YOU, come yourself don't send your son this is no place for the Child. Thank you Lord."

I noted the date.

August 29th, 2009. A day after you told me you had cancer.

Dad, you were afraid too.

I love you Dad, I am so sorry you had fear. I hope that wherever you are there is no more fear.

I realize...

Death does not wait.

It does not wait for 'A Better Time'
It does not wait for 'Old Age'
It does not wait for 'Fair Judgements'
It does not wait for 'Last Kisses'

Death does not accept.

It does not accept 'Bargaining'
It does not accept 'Prayer'
It does not accept 'Fair Trades'
It does not accept 'Promises'

Death does not know.

It does not know 'Seasons'
It does not know 'Patience'
It does not know 'Love'
It does not know 'Me'

pain tonight

3 cries in 2 days. What the hell.


............................

you are gone

and I am left

you did not suffer life

but you have suffered death

.............................

Shower...

Second shower I've had that I cried for you. I don't understand this new development, Dad. For some reason the hotter the water on my head, the more the emotions come up. I don't know what it is. I was thinking about how you said my name "Sah-Rah", and I had to strain to remember your voice. I got so scared to forget you, and then I was thinking about you in that hospital bed, so sick, and then the thoughts of you dieing.. it all became too much. I could feel it all under the surface, in my chest. With each deep breath I was sucking it up out of myself and into that steamy air.. and then, it started. And I sobbed. And it was like no other cry I have had. Not because of it's intensity, or it's length, just because of where it seemed to come from, and how much of it was just pure grief.

It reminded me of what Zoe said. The meditation of scooping from your eyes down into your belly, taking one emotion, pulling it up.. and placing it in an egg to keep safe until you're able to cope with it.
Well Dad, I cracked an egg.  And when I thought of it that way, I felt the grief seeping like yoke through my muscles and organs and settling into my body. It was one of many eggs. I have a feeling I'm going to be cracking eggs for a while.

14 Days..

Put a candle in the window, but I feel I've got to move.


Though I'm going, going, I'll be coming home soon,

'Long as I can see the light.



Pack my bag and let's get movin', 'cause I'm bound to drift a while.

Well I'm gone, gone, you don't have to worry no,

'Long as I can see the light.



Guess I've got that old trav'lin' bone,

'cause this feelin' won't leave me alone.

But I won't, won't be losin' my way, no, no

'Long as I can see the light.



Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Oh, Yeah!



Put a candle in the window, 'cause I feel I've got to move.

Though I'm going, going, I'll be coming home soon,

Long as I can see the light.

Long as I can see the light.

Long as I can see the light.

Long as I can see the light.

Long as I can see the light.




It's been 14 days since you died.
I keep thinking about the day they called to tell me you had gone. The man's voice, I could tell from his tone what he was going to say. "I'm calling to inform you that Leo has passed."
I went numb.
You died.

I have this incredible, deep, eating of my chest, feeling of loneliness right now. I am with people and I feel alone. All I can think about is the fact that you are gone. Not one more hug ever from you, never ever, never more. Not another call on the phone. I can still remember your voice. I miss you so much dad. I am so angry that you died. I can't believe cancer ate you alive and took you away from me.
I don't know these feelings, they are so unfamilliar to me. I'm lashing out at people and I don't mean to. I guess you can call it bitterness. I know you don't want me to be angry or to hurt but I do and I'm sorry that I do. I am so helpless against my grief.

I have your ashes.
I look at the box and I know your body is inside. What you left behind. I touch the box, and I touch you. Your wallet sits atop it, I pick it up and smell it, and it smells like you. I know that scent so well. I feel like I am clinging to a few tiny dustlike embers of your entire life on earth. 60 years of you in one red cedar box.
Oh god how I hurt.

I'm playing back the last two weeks in my mind. Some days it feels like an hour. Some days it feels like a year. The calls, the paperwork, telling people that knew you "sort of well" that you had passed. Delivering news and watching thier faces fall, watching them stumble for something to say. Or worse, seeing them hurt that you were gone, because, they loved you. Being the one to handle all of it. Holding the certificate of your death in my hand. A piece of paper can sum up your whole life? Finding your boat broken into. Sitting on your bed amongst a mess of torn wood and scattered items with your pillow in my hands and just crying from helplessness. Wanting to be anywhere but there. Moving your boat to it's new home... knowing you are not on it, not in it, not breathing life into it. Feeling it's ropes, touching the bow with my full open hand, feeling it breathe because of you... missing you. Finding papers confirming "paternity". Holding the certificate of your batism in my hand. Finally knowing my Grandfather's full name. Holding the deed to the boat. Calling it "my" boat. Knowing it will never, ever, ever be mine. Sleeping at night and waking, expecting to see you standing in my room. Avoiding being alone because I don't want the hurt to seep in. Closing your post box account. Picking up your will. Holding your urn, empty... holding it, full. Feeling the weight of your ashes inside it. Losing you.

I miss you dad. I miss you. I..miss.. you.

Dream..

You came to me in a dream just now...

I was working as an animal rescue agent, and I walked into a house to find an animal, and there you were. You were kneeling down working on the door of a dinner buffet cabinet.
I knelt down by you and we hugged. You had a tiny silver eagles feather earring, hanging from your right ear.
We had this conversation:

Me: I miss you, Dad.
You: I miss you.
Me: Are you okay?
You: Yeah, I'm okay.
You: I wish I could see you.
Me: You can see me in my dreams.
You: *smile*
Me: We can fly all over the place, we can fly to australia together. We could never do that in life.
You: *smile*
Me: *stands up* I need to get back to work, Dad.
You: (I forget what you said here, something about not wanting me to go.)
Me: (I forget what I said, about needing to go save the animals.)

The dream continued on about saving a dog.. then I woke. In seconds on waking there you were in my mind, this dream, you. I can still feel your hug, still smell you, still hear your voice. I can only believe it was you dad, we were so connected in life, there is no way it wasn't you.

I love you daddy, and yes, I do miss you.

Coping..

Someone told me that laughter is coping. Today when I laughed I tried so hard to see you laughing with me, to see you lean forward in your chair with that grin on your face, engrossed in the moment and so very entertained by the conversation.. and not at all aware of any pain or suffering, but just of that moment when we were all smiling together.

I bought your urn today, Dad. I hope you like it. When I saw it I knew it was for you.
Red Cedar, carved with an eagle done in native artwork, inlayed with abalone shell... done by local Haida artists... everything you would have found to be perfection.
I know you're not there anymore.. you're not in that body you left behind. But that body was the vessel that carried you here on earth and I need it to be respected.

They moved your body from the hospital today, well, the morgue. I wanted you out of there so badly. The ministry is helping to pay for everything, which is a relief. But I would have paid.
I had to go into your wallet today.
Your wallet.
Yours.
I nearly got sick. It's always been yours.. I've watched you take that rubber band from it with your own hands so many times, I did it just the same as you do... it felt so unnatural.
You still feel like you're here, Dad. I keep repeating.."my dad died. MY dad.. mine." It's just not real. I wake at night and look over my shoulder and expect to see you standing there.

I am standing on the sea shore,


A ship sails in the morning breeze and starts for the ocean.

She is an object of beauty and I stand watching her

Till at last she fades on the horizon and someone at my side says:

"She is gone."

Gone! Where?

Gone from my sight - that is all.

She is just as large in the masts, hull and spars as she was when I saw her

And just as able to bear her load of living freight to its destination.

The diminished size and total loss of sight is in me,

not in her.
And just at the moment when someone at my side says,

"She is gone",

There are others who are watching her coming, and other voices take up a glad shout:

"There she comes"

- and that is dying. An horizon and just the limit of our sight.

Lift us up, Oh Lord, that we may see further.

High Flight


Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth

And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings.

Sunward I've climbed and joined the tumbling mirth

Of sun split clouds - and done a hundred things

You have not dreamed of; wheeled and soared and swung

High in the sunlit silence. Hovering there

I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung

My eager craft through footless halls of air;

Up, up the long delirious burning blue

I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace,

Where never lark nor even eagle flew;

And while, with silent lifting mind I've trod

The high, untrespassed sanctity of space

Put out my hand and touched the face of God.

You passed away today.

Earth became sky.

I love you.


Leo Joseph Frederick Picard
1949 - 2010

Freedom

I came home from our visit and it felt like I shut down. I refused process. I didn't even call to check on you. I don't know why.

You slipped into a coma this morning and are finally about to earn your wings.

I love you, Dad.

What is left/Let it be

Today, I am overwhelmed.

You're leaving me the boat and 40+ feet of confusion. No buyer, many complications.
You're so weak... so thin... so sick. I can't even touch you, you won't let me. I want to gather you in my arms and rock you, just comfort you. But you won't let me.
I am hurting in ways I have never hurt. I have no words.

I'm noticing tattoos on you that I think I've seen a million times.. but they're not familliar to me. Your sickness is unfamilliar. I want you to be able to just rest, but there seems to be so much to do now. It's like everything was left to the last minute. It was. And now you're barely able to cope, to manage, and you won't let go until you do.

I'm having short chats about very crucial things with near strangers. I feel like this is a nightmare I can't wake up from. My god how many nightmares have I had that involved the boat? And now I am living one. I've lost you in my dreams so many times. It hurt then too.

I have to leave and let you "die with dignity". I have to. I have to do the final accepting, and let you free to finish what started nearly 6 months ago. My god how the time flew. You pushed and pushed me. And now, now that we face the end, you're yelling at me for not writing a number down. You're so confused.. you seem so lost, I am so lost too. I love you dad, so very very much. I'll do anything you need me to do. I can get through this, even though I just want to run and hide and pretend none of it is happening.

One. Step. At. A. Time.


Let it be...

When I find myself in times of trouble, mother Mary comes to me,


speaking words of wisdom, let it be.

And in my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me,

speaking words of wisdom, let it be.



Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be.

Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.



And when the broken hearted people living in the world agree,

there will be an answer, let it be.

For though they may be parted there is still a chance that they will see,

there will be an answer. let it be.



Let it be, let it be, .....



And when the night is cloudy, there is still a light, that shines on me,

shine until tomorrow, let it be.

I wake up to the sound of music, mother Mary comes to me,

speaking words of wisdom, let it be.



Let it be, let it be, .....

Reading

Just sitting in the hotel reading about Pancreatic cancer... I really feel like I am learning nothing. There seems to be so much information but none of it makes sense. I wish I could look inside you myself and see how bad it is. Well, no.. I don't. But I want answers. I can't even ask you, you get angry talking about it. But yes, you fit all the symptoms of advanced cancer. The jaundice, the pain, the weight loss, the muscle loss. I don't think its quite time, yet.. but it's soon. Nobody can know.
Rhonda made it sound like it was now... she may know better then I do. I think when its time, it will be time. I was so scared to come here and see you, but even though you look sick, I dont see cancer. I see my dad. You're the same dad you've always been. Your eyes may be yellow but they are clear. You may be skin and bones but your spirit is just as strong.
Its nearly hard to believe you're sick. If you didnt have the appearance you did I dont think anyone would know. I know it can be anytime now.. I guess it's just a matter of when. I wont think about when anymore, the time doesnt even matter. It will happen when it does.

I will never forget the moment, the feeling, when you touched my cheek with your caloused hand, looked into my eyes and told me "I love you." Nothing matters but that moment. That's our moment, dad.

The Knowing

There is a security in the knowing. When you know it's coming. There is fear in the knowing. But fear seems smaller, grief is smaller, pain is less...in knowing.
I knew this was coming.
Just now as I cried, it wasnt tears of a helpless daughter. It wasn't tears of sadness, even. It was, and I nearly can't admit: relief.
I know now that your pain will end. And with it, mine. I know now that you will have the knowing. You will get to know God.. or heaven, or, just peace.
In the last days, if that's in fact what we have left... in the last days, hours, I am quiet inside. All of the anger, the terror, the rage... seems to have faded. I feel soft. I feel as if I am laying in a quiet blue ocean watching the surface far above me, as it lists and flows... and I'm safe here. There is no fear in acceptance, and there is acceptance in knowing.
My heart will have you forever my daddy. I am yours. You will be mine. I swear I will do everything I can to become all you ever would have wanted for me, even if all you have wanted was for me to be happy. I will be happy dad, I promise. I love you.

The call...

Rhonda just called to warn me that you're in the hospital, and although you are still planning that "trip", she says you will likely not make it. I don't know her well enough to know if she overreacts, but I will take her word for it, and come. She says come now while you're lucid. Later won't matter. I accept this.
I can't remember anyone's phone numbers.... not even Mom's. My head aches and I feel like I am laying at the bottom of the ocean.
I think this was what I was waiting for. Am I ready? I am.
Ok dad...ok. I'm here, when you're ready. Ok.