In Loving Memory

A year ago today I experienced a life change that I was no way ready to bear. My father died suddenly. His last week was sublime. He and my Mom were in Minnesota on vacation. We did all his favorite things: visiting family, going to the Minnesota State Fair and shopping. None of us knew my Dad was going to die, but his death wasn’t a surprise either. My Dad had severe heart disease and diabetes.

I know for certain that we never lose the people we love, even to death. They continue to participate in every act, thought and decision we make. Their love leaves an indelible imprint in our memories. We find comfort in knowing that our lives have been enriched by having shared their love.

-Leo Buscaglia

Grief is a funny thing. I never know what will set it off. Not long after my Dad died I was at Target and little girl was walking around. She had on the cutest dress and she was beginning to explore her environment. Walking just far enough from Mom to assert her independence while keeping a watchful eye to make sure Mom was still very close by. She was so cute. My Dad always loved kids and I started thinking how much he would have enjoyed this child. As I watched her, it occurred to me that this child was about the same age as Beverly. It hit me: my Dad had died before he could meet my kids. I didn’t know how I was going to get out of the store fast enough to prevent breaking down in public. 

The day before he died, my father and I went to the grocery store. It just so happened that the store was doing one of my Dad’s favorite things: handing out samples! My Dad was a regular at both Sam and Costco and knew the sample ladies by their first name. Anyway, that day my Dad tried some root beer that he really liked. He wanted to buy a 6-pack. Sadly, the sugar-free root beer hadn’t come in that day’s shipment. The store was expecting some in the next day.

My Dad had had a stroke about 18-months before he died. His personality hadn’t really changed. He could still speak clearly and he understood what was said to him. He didn’t have any limb weakness or paralysis. But, he had lost his ability to think clearly and make decisions. Add to that the fact that he couldn’t really hear and, well, my Mom, my sisters and I had assumed more of a caretaker role. Luckily, he seemed to enjoy being pampered by his girls. He generally cooperated without too much of a fuss. (I am sure my mom would disagree with that statement. I should say he cooperated with his daughters without too much of a fuss.) Do you think he was just pulling our chain? Anyway, I made the decision… we would not be buying my Dad, a brittle diabetic, a 6-pack of carbohydrates. He could wait until tomorrow. By the next morning, my Dad was dead. He never got his gourmet root beer.

Several months after my Dad died, I happened to be shopping at that same store. I went to the refrigerator section to get myself a Diet Pepsi. There it was, a bottle of sugar-free root beer. The kind I had promised my Dad I would buy him. And, I cried. Luckily I was able to get out of the store before anyone asked me what was wrong. What do you tell them, “My Dad died several months ago and I picked today to be sad?” Why is it that I can be perfectly sane in my home when no one is watching and then lose it in public?

Losing my Dad changed the dynamics in our family. My sisters and I have grown closer. Oh, we always got along, but grieving together opened the door to deeper conversations about death, loss and God. We all live so far apart that our relationship had deteriorated to talking about surface things. In the past, when we got together it was to have fun. I know my sisters better than I did a year ago. I know where they are strong and I have seen where they struggle. Actually, this would have made my Dad ecstatic. He valued family and always made staying connected a priority in his life. Some people travel to far away places on vacation; my Dad always came home to his roots.

We have worried about my Mom together too. My Mom seems to be doing okay. Oh, she is sad some days too, but she is generously giving her time and talents to her Savior. Oh and she bought, “That dumb dog!” (Her words not mine.) Faith stopped growing long before she reached the size predicted by the pessimistic vet. No one knows what she is mixed with, but it is obviously some kind of hound. She did inherit a rather unfortunate trait from her part hound ancestry:

I’m not saying that it is not possible to train a Bloodhound, it just requires more patience than it would with another breed. It is not at all that we are stupid, we’re just stubborn!

Miss Lazydays of Summer, Bloodhounds

Faith has been the class clown and nearly failed out of puppy obedience class. The instructor told my Mom that Faith was the most difficult dog she had ever unsuccessfully trained. Recently my Mom and sister went to Florida together. They kenneled Faith and my sister’s dogs. They could have saved some money if the dogs all shared a kennel, but Faith doesn’t allow other dogs to eat. Even after she has had her fair share, if another dog approaches the food ~ look out. My Mom has had to install a fence around her yard. When she tried walking her on a leash, Faith bolted and pulled my Mom onto her keister. My Mom has osteoporosis so she was a little afraid that she was going to break something.  

I know that many of my readers have remembered me in prayer this year. I wanted to let you know that your prayers have been answered mightily. Even if I am sometimes sad, I have felt a peace that passes understanding. I know that I am loved by my Lord.

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