CJ had a post that made me think about crosstalk and then one response by Barisax mentioned that continuing with a tread of thought that might continue into another, should be a new topic....so here goes>>>a new topic: Losing a loved one, in this case my dad, has been a long and arduous process. Commits on post are appreciated.


Maggi, you said, "All I can say is in this life you have to take action on everything, because tomorrow may not be here. You sometimes only get one chance to say those things, to do those things or to share those things only one time. So waste not your one time. Life can be so short."

So true MaggiG. My dad died in January 2002. That may seem like a long time ago, but it seems like just yesterday. He was the only man that I ever trusted in my life. (I've been married 4 times, didn't trust one of them)

I am pleased to say that I did take the time to say those things, to do those things and to share those things that were dear to dad and I. I got to talk to him about life and what it meant (he was 86 when he died). I got to tell him how much I loved him. I told him how much it meant to me that he never judged me (on the 4 marriages). He never told me I was a "screw up" (which I thought I was). He never told me was stupid for the choices that I made (I did make some VERY foolish choices, and we did talk about it, but he never said I was "stupid". We walked over the farm the summer before he died (he was VERY active right up until three months before we found out he had cancer) and we talked about our love and common goals for our 5 generation farm.

I had an experience in the fall of 1986 that helped us to do that (convey our feelings.) He had an operation on his prostrate (he eventually died of prostrate cancer). I know any operation there can be complications, but this was supposed to be a routine one. Mom and I quickly found out that it was not routine, and we almost lost him then.

I had vowed, before he went into surgery that I would tell him that I loved him (something very hard for our emotionally dysfunctional family). I couldn't do it. Don't ask me why. It was too hard, I told myself. It will make him uncomfortable, I told myself. It will make me uncomfortable. So what....I thought while he was laying in ICU incoherent and non-responsive...I should have told him, now I may never get to do so.

Well, since he died in 2002, obviously he didn't die in 1986! After he recovered from the surgery and was back home. I told him that I had something very important to tell him. I told him how while we sat in the pre-op room waiting for his surgery I had meant to tell him that I loved him...and how much I had appreciated all that he had done for me over the years.

I told him that it meant so much to me that he never judged me (on the 4 marriages). He never told me I was a "screw up" (which I thought I was). I told him how much I appreciated he and mom always being there for me, always supporting, always loving, always picking me up when I fell down. 

I told him that I realized that I'd never told him that I loved him and that I had meant to while we were in pre-op that day and that I just wasn't able to, for whatever reason. I even told him that I knew that it was hard for him to express emotion and that it was hard for me too, but that I felt like this was very important. Then I told him how scared I was when he had his reaction to the operation and we thought we were going to lose him and I hadn't even had the courage to tell him that I loved him.

I was annoyed a little at first, because the whole time dad was looking at his shoes. I thought, why can't he look at me when I'm talking to him, that's what he expects of me......little did I know, even knowing how hard emotions are to deal with in our family, how very hard (but necessary) this was, until he finally looked up with tears streaming down his face (also something that our family doesn't ever do) and said, "I know you love me Lisa, because you show me in your actions."

That was as close as dad ever came to telling me he loved me, but it was enough. I had a counselor tell me lately "do you hear the lie your telling yourself?" "What?" says I, "that it somehow wasn't enough for my dad to tell me, 'I know you love me Lisa, because you show me in your actions.'" I said, "NO, it was enough, because I knew how hard it was for him to express emotion and he was in effect saying...."I love you too, dear daughter, because I show you through MY actions."

It was enough. I told the counselor and I didn't care if he believed me or not.

Dad has been gone now five years and I have a picture of him with a poem imprinted on the frame. It goes like this:

Little I knew that morning, God was going to call your name, in life we loved you dearly, in death we do the same. It broke our hearts to lose you, you did not go alone, for part of me went with you, the day God called you home.

You left us beautiful memories your love is still our guide, and though we cannot see you, you are always by our side. Our family chain is broken, and nothing seems the same, but as God calls us one by one, the chain will link again.

Little I knew that morning, God was going to call your name, in life we loved you dearly, in death we do the same. It broke our hearts to lose you, you did not go alone, for part  of me went with you, the day God called you home. You left us beautiful memories, your love is still our guide, and though we cannot see you, you are always by our side.

                                                                         author uknown

Dad is still with me, I feel him still. In the early morning hours and the call of the whipperwill. I sit alone each evening and watch the sun set ebb, and think of love not said. I see him in the pastures. I see him in the fields. I feel his blood run through me as I stand and face the flood. My mom sees her love for her husband shown through her love for her child...the hands on her daughters hips as she speaks to the famers, reminds her of her husbands stance and his grace. Someday the torch will be passed on, for the grandchild of the farmer loves the farm, too. Someday I will see her stand obstinately resolute in her thinking and love her with the same love that remembers the blood that runs through her veins comes from the family tree of the man who once loved me.

OH bye the way.............anyone that wants to commit on this post please do so! lol I would love feed back.

Java

-- Edited by java at 01:25, 2007-05-10

-- Edited by java at 01:31, 2007-05-10