A year can fly and drag by in tandem. Today I feel this contradiction of time in my innermost parts. Grief and loss are weird things. Grief seems such a visceral thing, both cathartic and immobilizing alternately. Loss is different though. Loss can sometimes be put out of mind, we don’t always feel it or think about it. But then loss , and the weight of loss, can hit us out of nowhere, reignighting that flame of grief we thought we had extinguised better.
I guess we never do that. Not if we have loved and been loved well by people.
It’s been a year since my dad passed. It’s also just “been a damn year” right? The phone call that moring took me so by surprise. I was not prepared or ready. Are we ever really ready to let go of someone we have loved and been loved by so much? I don’t think so. Nothing really prepares us for the empty pit that ebbs and swells inside of our innermost parts.
If I could do anything or be anywhere today, it would be with my mom. We would have spent the day celebrating the life my dad lived, the love and “words of wisdom” that he offered so freely. I think I would have made bologna stew and homemade bread and cookies! All some of his favorites.
But here we are, a year into this pandemic, and mom is sequestered away in assisted living, unable to leave or have visitors. That’s how we have had to grieve for most of this last year. Separated. Separately. Oh, we visit at her window, FaceTime, talk on the phone. It’s not the same as being together in person. It’s not the same as looking through pictures or watching family videos together, weeping and laughing and remembering together. But we do the best we can. We’ve had to.
Remembering my dad today, I think about this past year and the things he has missed. Not the pandemic, or all that has happened in out world and country. That stuff would have fired him up! Or made him sad. It would have all been very difficult for him in memory care. I guess in that regard, he left this earth at the right time for him. Bigger things though, things he would have been proud of like Elsa’s graduation from college, Noah’s new apartment, Fiona’s new cat, Clementine, Olivia’s leadership for safety equality in her job, Savannah and James new jobs and all the pictures of everyones pets! My dad would have loved all of that. He would be so happy that Hannah has found a life partner and is engaged. He would totally want to road trip to that wedding. My cleaned and organized garage! Lord how I wish he could see that! I finally got rid of all the damn bikes he fretted about for so many years.
I want to do something that honors and remembers him today, but here I am on Weight Watchers, so getting a good donut at Max’s or a Clark Bar are off the table. The garage is organized already, so not that. I have a few extension cords that would keep him up at nights, but I really need them, so I can’t change those. What to do, what to do?
So, I will intentionally be present to whoever may need someone to stand with or beside them. Offer my own words of wisdom, however unwise they may be. I have a lot of students and life is challenging right now for many of them. I can be here to listen and share what I can, be available, keep the door open….like my dad always did. A garage door and a classroom door aren’t all that different right? Today and really most days, I hope to honor him by living a life like he did. Willing to help, to walk alongside, to teach what I can, and make people feel seen and valued. Loved.
You won’t find me in the garage like Mr. Michelson, but I will be in my classroom or my kitchen if someone needs a listening ear or a bit of perspective. I also serve this all up with whatever I may be cooking! The counter is open, and today the conversation is going to include lots of “Johnisms” and memories. They will be mixed up with grief and loss and laughter and served up with a side of encouragement. I can’t promise I won’t tell anyone to “get their head our their ass”, but if I say it, it will be salt and peppered with unconditional love, just like John I hope!
