11 November 2015


I only cried once at my father's visitation and it was very brief and quietFor the most part I consoled my friends who wept for me.  I thanked my father's associates and golf buddies for loving him.  I listened to people's memories of him and tried to file them away in my heart for later.  There was one moment though, when Alissia pressed this stone in my hand.  She reminded me that I gave it to her 9 years ago when she needed it most and I told her then that every time she held it, I would be there with her.  To be honest, I completely forgot about it - sometimes we don't know the magnitude of what we perceive to be something small and how it affects others.  She had driven 4 hours to come and give me this stone so I had something to hold when things overwhelmed me. I didn't cry because I was sad - I cried because I was reminded again of just how truly our lives were connected by love.  Holding this smooth piece of green beach stone, etched simply with the word STRENGTH, I broke for just a moment. 

That night as I wrote his eulogy I held it.  I put it under my pillow for dreams of strength to get through the next day.  I carried it to the podium with me to give my eulogy and for that first moment when my eyes covered over with tears I held it ever so tight.  It was reminiscent of the "Talk to me Goose" scene from Top Gun but in my head I simply just asked my Dad to stand there with me.  To be my strength.  Lord knows I didn't make it through that whole speech without a few tears but I made it strong for the rest of the service   I held on to that stone for dear life up there and I've held it a lot this week.  I don't feel strong this week

I don't know - maybe I feel guilty for not breaking more.  Maybe I'm in denial and trying to somehow dredge these feelings to the surface.  Death feels like it's everywhere around me and yet I haven't cried.  We had such a great day with Peggy on Sunday but then there was the moment at the end of the night when we were standing on my porch waiting for her car and she just fell into my arms.  Holding someone as she cries "I don't want to die" may be one of the most heartbreaking things.  "I'm not ready.  I don't want to die yet." These words keep haunting me this week.  It took every ounce of strength I had left not to break - to hold her and soothe her and tell her she wasn't going anywhere even though I have no clue.  She made me promise to give her eulogy and make people laugh not cry. 
I've been thinking of this stone a lot and remembering friends I've lost so far in my life and trying to remember the lessons they've taught me.  Their strength & love of life is my encouragement to be a better human

Part of me is feeling overwhelmed by this weekend and trying to think of how I can make it better for everyone so it's not as sad.
Saturday marks 7 years of Iain's passing which still doesn't quite seem real.  I still remember Dad's voice on the phone that day when he called to tell me and not even being able to comprehend those words. The first "first" is this weekend - Davis' First Birthday and Dad should be there.  Dad would have ate this up and loved every minute of this party! Missing both of them so much this week, I can only hope that the two of them are up in heaven somewhere causing trouble.  My brother and my dad - reunited again at last.  Smile down on us this weekend. 

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