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.