Tag Archives: dad

Uncategorized

Tribal Counsel

Today was actually the most normal I have felt in a week. Normal is all relative, but it was normal none the less. I only cried 128 times today so I consider that a success. I only thought of 32 things I wanted to go tell Dad about.  I’m getting better about just stopping and telling him anyways, hoping that wherever he is he hears me. 

Today some of our family from Dad’s side flew in for the funeral – which is tomorrow. We sat at a big table and caught up on each other’s lives, listened to them tell stories about Dad and also different generations of family, laughed, and shared being together in this bittersweet way. Because we didn’t grow up near them we never know enough about them. 

But because of that family bond, sitting at our tribal counsel tonight felt easy. By the way the spelling of counsel is done with intent. Dad was a lawyer, mom also practiced law, one cousin at the table tonight is in practice with his dad – my dad’s brother. Law runs strong in the family. 

Again today I was reminded of the power of love, the strength of family. People who pull together and dig deep to be there for each other no matter what. The people who leave their busy lives to love and support their loved ones when times call for it. I feel so grateful to have so many of these people in my life. People who I also support and hand hold through good times and the rough ones too. 

I don’t know how tomorrow will go. But today I feel so happy and blessed to be a part of my tribe of people. 

Sitting at the table giggling with the relatives. My happiness moment for  the day. 

Standard
Uncategorized

Denial. 

This morning at 4:30 I woke up in a panic from a nightmare that Dad had died and we were getting ready for his funeral. It was only a couple of seconds before I realized that this was not just a sleeping nightmare. 

Somehow it’s supposed to get easier. 

I was told to be grateful that I had all that time before to be with him and tell him I loved him. I am thankful for that – but let me tell you that it does not help with the big, aching hole in my heart and in my family. 

I just keep thinking it can’t possibly be true. This can’t have happened. I still have a journey to walk with him. We still had things to do. Jacob still needed him. 

Today happiness moment was a silly, funny happiness. I went to get my hair done. Since last fall I’ve had subtle purple highlights in my hair. Well, today they came out hot pink. My stylist and I just looked at the hot mess and laughed and laughed. Because what can you do? I figured at least I would  be able to embarrass the kids with it, but they think it’s awesomely cool and want me to leave it like this. It’ll be back to boring old purple tomorrow. Funny moments. They’re good. 

I also had a cousin stop by for a visit while getting my hair done, and when I was finished I ran into an old friend I haven’t seen in 20 years. It is good to be home. That’s a happiness moment all by itself. 

Standard
Uncategorized

An over-eating CATastrophy

Today I had to head into town to buy clothes for the kids and me to wear to Dad’s funeral. Clothes for the kids because – well – they’re kids and they grow. clothes for me because apparently all I’ve done over the past couple of weeks is stress eat and nothing fits me anymore. So, now not only am I in mourning but I’m fat as well. Excellent.

I’ve consoled myself with the thought that Dad was one of the few people who loved me exactly as I am, no matter what, and he would understand why I’ve put on the pudge. Nothing else should matter (sob… pass the cake please).

During my time of over-eating, I’ve had a strange binging buddy. My cat Ella has been stress eating right along with me. Her food consumption has almost tripled over the past couple of weeks. My cat who prefers the method of being “close but no touching” has decided that she can’t leave my side. She follows me everywhere, she reaches up with her paw and grabs my hands and brings them to her if I’m not paying her enough attention. This morning while I was on the elliptical, she jumped up on the freezer which is right beside it and pawed at me the entire time – rolling on her back for a tummy rub every time I put my hand out.

She knows something is up and she’s my constant soul companion when I’m home.

My happiness moment came today when I was having supper that had been prepared by my mother in law. We have been so well cared for by our tribe. Last night was supper at my cousin’s place. The night before that we were at the funeral home when I realized that we didn’t have anything for supper, I texted a different cousin and said “remember how you said anytime and anything we needed? we are hungry and don’t have supper”. When we came home she was standing in our kitchen heating up supper for us. We are so well loved and cared for.

I had a secondary, quieter happiness moment today that was more along the lines of yesterday’s flower walk. I didn’t get a picture of them – but today the mountains were amazing. It was one of those rare, perfect mornings where things were still and clear. The mountains looked like they were right on our doorstep. I had to stop and stand still for a while and take in their beauty. Grateful happiness. The kind of bliss that comes only from standing at home looking out on “our view”. I could feel Dad standing with me. Which was good and hard. Every day seems to get harder instead of easier. But, that moment made it easier and that made it a happiness moment.

Standard
Uncategorized

Flower walk

Today I tried really hard to get out and do some normal life things. Spring, or the beginning of summer, was always Dad’s favourite time of year. Since the warm weather is here for such a short time, I felt obligated to take in the beautiful sunny day. 

My Uncle Gord has spent ages moving and organizing the opening of his parents’ home at the Cochrane Ranche, and today was the grand opening of it. I went because I adore Uncle Gord, and because I really wanted to go out and be normal. Which I was… And I wasn’t. 

There was a lot of extended family, so on top of Uncle Gord leaving the front to come and hug me and squish up my face (have I mentioned I adore him? Nobody else would ever get away with that), I had family coming up and hugging me and giving me love. 

Which was nice, and also not nice. Nice because I am so blessed to be back in my tribe with people who know and love me. Not nice because it makes this whole death thing more real. 

I had a lovely conversation with two cousins who shared their happy memories of canoeing with Dad. The love and the sadness on their faces was so deep. 

I was quietly shadowed by another cousin. I’d think she’d gone somewhere and she’s appear and squeeze my shoulder and say I was doing a good job. Any time someone new came to talk to me she’d reappear and make sure I was ok.

Talk about having my back. She’s always someone I want in my corner anyway. 

After I left the opening I had to drive into Calgary. As I reached the top of Cochrane Hill I had the strong impulse to turn off to Glenbow Ranch. Dad always loved walking there and looking at the wildflowers. 

In fact wildflowers were kind of Dad’s thing. From the time I was little, he’d take me out into the field and teach me the names of all the flowers. And he really knew them all too. We had little flower books and my sister and I would write down where and when we saw them. 

As time went on, Dad expanded from just teaching us the flowers, to our cousins, and eventually Mom and Dad’s friends. Dad would take a group of friends out on big long wildflower walks and tell them all about the flowers. 

All spring we scoured the field outside their house looking for a crocus – the sure sign of spring. There was never one to be found this year. Once I was at Glenbow Ranch, I decided to go walk the flower trail I had walked with Dad last summer in hopes of maybe seeing a crocus. Nope, but I came across something else 

Can you see it there hiding quietly in the grass?   

A lady slipper 

 One of his favorite flowers was the lady slipper. 

The park was busy, there were people on all the other paths. But for a few minutes I was the only person standing in this secret flower spot. It was the exact place I had stood last summer with Dad looking at Wood Lillies – my favourite flower. 

For just a few moments I felt him standing there with me on that ridge looking at the flowers. My happiness moment of the day. 

Standard
Uncategorized

The beginning of the aftermath of crisis. 

When we were in crisis mode I had the overwhelming feeling that we were the only people in the entire world to be going through a crisis. I was the only little girl (at the age of 44) who was about to lose her dad ever. We had a wonderful support team around us, yet at times it felt so all encompassing and lonely. 

Even then the rational part of me knew we were hardly the only ones facing a crisis, and how even during our storm we were held onto by so many loving arms. 

Here’s what I’ve noticed in the beginning of the aftermath of the crisis. Those feelings of being so alone are gone. We are holding each other up. We are held up by our tribe. And coming quietly out of the woodwork is the support of the others. Those who have already lost a spouse or parent. 

Before I had kids people may have tried to warn me of the pain of childbirth. I’m sure even if they’d graphically and accurately described it I would never have believed that such a pain exists and you can live through it and see better things. These others who have survived the death of their loved one come silently behind us and hold our hands while we work through the pain. They are proof you can make it through. They understand that pain that you can’t describe. 

The tribe we have has circled around us and enveloped us in love and support. I am so grateful for the amazing people we have in our lives. God put us right in the middle of a very strong and loving support system. 

The messages I have received from people telling stories about how dad impacted their lives has let me know that he was this powerful force of love to so many other people as well as to us. 

All of these people slowly and quietly holding us in a nest of love. How grateful I am. 

Standard
Uncategorized

A prayer of peace 

Today has been the most emotionally  gut wrenching day of my life.  I have been so grateful for my faith, and for the strong guidance my dad gave me as he lived his faith. 

I don’t even know how to put into words the impact that my dad has had on my life. The integrity with which he lived his life, the love he shared, the light he shone that inspired not only me but the lives of everyone he met. I was so lucky that God gave me the dad He did. 

We shared a very emotional and loving goodbye to my dad today. 

My happiness moment was at the hospice. The kids, my cousin, her husband and kids, my aunt and uncle were sitting with the social worker. The kids took some time to share their favourite memories of Dad. How he took them on flower walks, how he swam in the creek with them, how he played with them, how he loved him. 

I feel so honored to have had him in my life. Although I’m infinitely sad, I’m infinitely grateful to have known him. My faith in something greater, in something better is strengthened because of this. 

I stood outside at the barn today and said a loving prayer to my dad that was sent to me by my pastor in Roanoke 

We entrust you to God who created you. May you return to the one who formed us out of the dust of the earth. Surrounded by angels and triumphant saints, may Christ come to meet you as you go forth from this life. May Christ, the Lord of glory, who was crucified for you, bring you freedom and peace. May Christ, the High Priest, who has forgiven all you sins, keep you among his people. May Christ, the Son of God, who died for you, show you the glories of his eternal kingdom. May Christ, the Good Shepherd, enfold you with his tender care. May you see your redeemer face to face and enjoy the sight of God forever. Amen. 

Standard
Uncategorized

Peace in the midst of the storm. 

Today was one of those days where I am so grateful that I am actively searching for moments of happiness. It has been an emotional day. A bed opened at the hospice and Dad left the ranch to be cared for by the loving staff there. It’s a beautiful place, it’s where he wanted to go, it’s better for his care, and yet… my heart still wants him at home. 

When he left it was the perfect send off from his favourite season from his yard where he has spent so many moments of his life. His tree was in full blossom, there was no wind, the birds were chirping – it was a beautiful moment. Except for… 

Thank goodness for the moments of happiness. A farmers market was on just down the street. We went and got food, we strolled around, it was sunny and everything was blooming. We went to the park. Things got silly. 

 
Man I love that kid. Normal happiness in the midst of a super emotional day. Peace in the midst of the storm.  

Standard
Uncategorized

Catch my fall 

The happy moment today was at Mackay’s in Cochrane. Ice cream with family we haven’t seen in ages. The really cool thing about family is no matter how long time passes or how little time is actually spent together, there is this bond of love and shared history.   

The sun went down tonight with a beautiful farewell. 

  
So needed on a day filled with emotion. I was thinking today as I helped Dad move to a chair how many times he’s held me up. The little bit of support I gave him to help him move was needed, but it was so small compared to the support he’s given me over the years. The tough times he’s helped me through. The good times he’s celebrated with me. I have been so blessed to have a father who always has my back no matter what, who has always stood firmly in my corner. The knowledge that he’s always there as a parachute when I’m falling has given me such comfort over the years. It’s an honour to be able to give him some support now. He’s got an amazing tribe of people around him. Family who love him, friends who consider him family, a tribe he has built by being a loving, strong man of integrity. 

Standard