Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Now that School is Done...Pass the Tissues

Now that school is seems that I am suddenly very emotional and feeling more grief over the loss of my father. Of course I have been missing him all along...but it is hitting me harder. For two days now I have been crying...sometimes very hard. And last night, I found this blog by a girl named Traci who is grieving the loss of her mother, who was also diagnosed with cancer in August and passed away in September. I read most of the posts about her mother...who was a fabulous woman of God, and found myself sobbing and sobbing over her well as my own. I can truly feel her loss and pain.

I have come to the conclusion that I filled my mind with graduate work...thus delaying my grief a bit. I have been noticing that there were certain connections that I had with my dad that I don't think my sisters shared. They had different connections I think. Mine were art and literature. He was very encouraging to me about my artwork and creativity. It was something we shared. He was very artistic and creative. Like me, he was often dreaming up the next project. It was a passion that he understood. I don't always get the same encouragement from those around me that I need in this area. The other thing we shared was literature. We would often talk about what books we had read. About two weeks before his diagnosis, he gave me a collection of works by Jane Austin. He had picked it up somewhere and was passing it along to me, knowing that I would enjoy it. Sometimes, he would show me a book that he had purchased at a flea market. Last summer, he also gave me Hans Brinker or the Silver Skates, which he had picked up for about $1 at some flea market. I still have the book on my night stand. I can't say that I enjoyed it, but I appreciate the oldness of it...and that it was given to me by Dad. He was the one that always read us poetry when we were little kids. Thanks to him, I am pretty seasoned in classic children's poetry. When I am a librarian some day, and hopefully I will work with children in some capacity...I will make sure to read Winkin Blinkin and Nod and The Owl and the Pussy Cat. I may even throw in Little Orphan Annie or The Raggedy Man. Hopefully I'll be able to read it as well as he did to us and not cry in the middle of it.


Martha said...

The grief still comes and goes with all of us. There will always be those days when I miss him so much that the tears well up and a lump grows in my throat.

It's almost times to plant gardens and my little square foot garden boxes, inspired by Dad, sit waiting in my back yard. I think no matter what our interests were, he was always an encourager.

We will never read poetry without hearing his voice, and how could I not love those classic Uncle Remus stories he taught me how to read. "Brer Rabbit, he lay low.."

Rachel said...

I struggle too. I still can't listen to him sing without sobbing my eyes out, so I have avoided listening to his CD's all together, but one of these days I am just going to play them and just let go when I am here all alone and have nowhere to go for a while.
I will always hear his voice reading us stories and poetry too. His words were always encouraging, right up until just before he died. Some of his last words to me were, "Always live for Jesus, Rachel." I will never forget that.

Wanda said...

I see such tender memories for all you girls. Do you know how wonderful that is. I talk to people who had no relationship with their parents, and don't know how to grieve when they are gone.

We who know the Lord, know how to grieve...not like the world without hope.

Thank you for letting me share in your personal grief. I love you girls...


Christine said...

I am so sorry. I understand your pain. Out of the blue something still hits me and I miss my dad all over again. our Dad sounds like he was a wonderful Father.