Last Friday marked the 28th anniversary of the day my father was killed in an automobile accident. 28th anniversary - sounds like it should be a happy occasion. I make Jim celebrate the anniversaries of our first date, our wedding, my first Michigan State game. 28th anniversary of the day my father was tragically and irrevocably ripped out of our lives -- doesn't have the same ring to it.
I'm just now, at the age of 29, beginning to understand the wide expanse of the hole he left behind. Why now? I'm not sure. Maybe it's because I'm in a good place in my life. Maybe that's when all the stuff you couldn't deal with before bubbles up to the surface. I was 16 months old when he died. I have no memories of him. I don't remember what his voice sounded like, how he smelled, what it felt like to have him hold me. All the things a little girl (and a 29 year woman) should know about her father. Don't think for a second that losing a parent at a young age is somehow easier than losing them later in life. You lose a parent, it sucks - period. He never taught me how to throw a softball, never taught me how to dance before prom, never threatened the lives of any boy who would hurt his daughter. I'm not bitter - well, maybe a little. Why him? Why me? Why does this have to be ONE of the tragic defining moments of my life? Why can't I be the normal girl at school with a mommy and a daddy? Why can't I call him up today and say "Hi Dad, was just thinking about you" I don't get it and the more I think about it - the angrier I get. But, that's not my point today.....
When I was little, I used to fantasize that my Dad was going to come back to me. Maybe he was in the CIA or witness protection. One day he would show up on my door step and apologize for all the years he missed. We would hug and begin the father/daughter relationship I had longed for my entire life. I wish I could tell you those fantasies faded with my childhood -- but they're still there, just under the surface. And, during difficult times in my life - I secretly entertain the idea that he could still come back. What would I say?
Dear Dad,
Ok, yes this is weird. I'm writing you a letter (for the whole world to read by the way). And, you're dead. That might send me over the edge just writing that. Dead. But, you're not. You are very much alive - in me. I like to think that I am a little piece of you that gets to live on. I like to think that some of the good in me comes from you. I like to believe that I have become a woman you would be proud to call your daughter. That's my biggest fear in the world - that you would be disappointed. You left this world far too soon and left behind what? A daughter who can't seem to get it together? I'm trying Dad, but I need you. I need my Dad to tell me that its ok, that its all going to be OK. I need you to be HERE.
I've made some bad choices Dad - done things I'm not proud of. Would you have loved me anyway? Would you have shook your head in disappointment or wrapped me in your understanding arms? I guess I'll never know. And, that kills me. I won't rehash the events of the last 29 years -- we do have an audience. I guess the long and the short of it is - you weren't there. When I was in a bad relationship - I needed my Dad to be the superhero that rescued me. When I finally met and married my best friend - I needed my Dad to walk me down the aisle. When I graduated high school, college, got my first job - I needed you.
But, I'm Ok Dad. In the grand scheme of where I could be in my life -- I think I'm doing pretty well. Mom is ok too. She misses you - every day, though she would never say that out loud. I have good friends, a beautiful home and a job that pays the bills. I have two men in my life I wish you could meet. My husband, Jim, is the man I know you picked for me. I can imagine you and God sitting on a cloud looking down to earth saying, "he's the one for her -- go have somebody event something called EHarmony so we can get them together" The other is a Jim too -- my father in law, Papa D. He's a Dad any girl would be lucky to have. He already has a beautiful daughter of his own, but he has love enough in his heart for me too. He protects me and looks out for me -- I know someday you will shake his hand and say "thank you for taking care of my little girl".
Well Dad, I gotta run. I'm at work and bawling like a baby at my desk as I write this. Don't worry -- we'll still have our regular chats -- when I'm running or driving or snuggling in for the night. I love you. I miss you. And I thank you for being a man I can be proud to call my Dad. I'll be seeing you -- I still need those dance lessons. Oh - and give Grandpa a kiss for me.
Love, Miranda
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Monday, September 10, 2012
9/11
I'm not sure that I set out to write a post tonight about 9/11 -- but its all I can think about. 11 years later -- the footage is still everywhere. All the major networks will show the attacks in real time tomorrow morning. All of us will awake with fresh wounds -- as if they ever really healed.
I write alot about ideals. About seizing the day and not letting death get the best of you. You'll see your loved ones again, no big deal. Yes, big deal. I'm embarassed to say it really has taken 11 years but I think the gravity of 9/11 has finally hit me. I've watched countless documentaries on the subject (Jim is borderline obsessed). I've seen the footage so many times I still see it when I close my eyes. I've listened to all 2, 819 names being read at Ground Zero. I'm a big picture girl. I get the big picture of 9/11. We were attacked, we responded and went to war. The landscape of our country, our psyche, our world -- will never be the same.
After we relive the tragedy tomorrow and lick our wounds for the appropriate amount of time -- we will again start remembering the good that came from the bad. The hope that rose from the rubble....or something like that. How do I wrap my head around that? Like I said -- 11 years later I am just now getting it. Most of you have probably been where I am now. Maybe you processed and moved on -- please tell me how. How am I suppose to reconcile with my head and my heart the fact that almost 3,000 people were killed in a single day -- for a single reason? Then, my big picture brain really gets the best of me and I think -- what about the Holocaust? The genocide in Africa? The tsunami in Indonesia? Countless lives lost. Tragically lost. Aren't all lives lost tragic? Would it be worse to lose a loved one to 9/11 than a car accident?The result is the same -- isn't it? What's the point? All of the sudden the world seems very big and I feel very small. I'm worried about getting laundry done and ticked off at Jim for leaving his cereal bowl on the counter again -- and all this tragedy is happening? Happening DAILY. I don't see a tenth of it -- will never hear about it on mainstream media -- will never have to process its ugliness.
Maybe that's it. Maybe we were forced to see the ugliness of 9/11 over and over and over again. Maybe that's why its so disturbing. I live a privledged, sheltered life. I've never feared for my life because I worship Jesus Christ. I've never feared a terrroist attack in my country -- even AFTER 9/11. Am I naive, stupid, out of touch? Death is everywhere. And, the best I can hope for is to die an old lady warm in my bed. (yes, I pulled that from Titanic, don't judge me) So - where do I go from here?
You have to learn from everything -- good,bad and ugly - or this ride we're on really is pointless. What have I learned from 9/11? Don't worry -- I'm not going to pull out flowery cliches about Carpe Diem and God has a plan and it all works out in the end. 9/11 doesn't work out. There is no amount of reasoning or religion that will make that day OK. There is no amount of ignorance or denial that will change the fact that everyday death is a reality for so many across the globe. My lesson from 9/11? I am one hell of a lucky girl. I live in a nation where people were running IN to burning buildings to save their fellow citizens. I live in a world where for everyone trying to destroy life -- there are others trying to preserve it.
Tomorrow when you turn the tv on to watch the coverage (you know you will) figure out what it means to you. Decide how the defining moment of our generation is going to define you. My goal -- still feel 9/11 next week. Still feel lucky when I pick up Jim's cereal bowl. Still feel privledged when I see someone flying the American flag. Still feel honored to serve families in times of loss -- whether that loss comes as a blessing or a tragedy. Still see God and know that 11 years ago Heaven was blessed with the arrival of 2,819 angels.
May God continue to bless the families of 9/11 victims, the first responders who showed the true courage and tenacity of the American spirit and our men and women in uniform -- who defend our freedom daily.
I write alot about ideals. About seizing the day and not letting death get the best of you. You'll see your loved ones again, no big deal. Yes, big deal. I'm embarassed to say it really has taken 11 years but I think the gravity of 9/11 has finally hit me. I've watched countless documentaries on the subject (Jim is borderline obsessed). I've seen the footage so many times I still see it when I close my eyes. I've listened to all 2, 819 names being read at Ground Zero. I'm a big picture girl. I get the big picture of 9/11. We were attacked, we responded and went to war. The landscape of our country, our psyche, our world -- will never be the same.
After we relive the tragedy tomorrow and lick our wounds for the appropriate amount of time -- we will again start remembering the good that came from the bad. The hope that rose from the rubble....or something like that. How do I wrap my head around that? Like I said -- 11 years later I am just now getting it. Most of you have probably been where I am now. Maybe you processed and moved on -- please tell me how. How am I suppose to reconcile with my head and my heart the fact that almost 3,000 people were killed in a single day -- for a single reason? Then, my big picture brain really gets the best of me and I think -- what about the Holocaust? The genocide in Africa? The tsunami in Indonesia? Countless lives lost. Tragically lost. Aren't all lives lost tragic? Would it be worse to lose a loved one to 9/11 than a car accident?The result is the same -- isn't it? What's the point? All of the sudden the world seems very big and I feel very small. I'm worried about getting laundry done and ticked off at Jim for leaving his cereal bowl on the counter again -- and all this tragedy is happening? Happening DAILY. I don't see a tenth of it -- will never hear about it on mainstream media -- will never have to process its ugliness.
Maybe that's it. Maybe we were forced to see the ugliness of 9/11 over and over and over again. Maybe that's why its so disturbing. I live a privledged, sheltered life. I've never feared for my life because I worship Jesus Christ. I've never feared a terrroist attack in my country -- even AFTER 9/11. Am I naive, stupid, out of touch? Death is everywhere. And, the best I can hope for is to die an old lady warm in my bed. (yes, I pulled that from Titanic, don't judge me) So - where do I go from here?
You have to learn from everything -- good,bad and ugly - or this ride we're on really is pointless. What have I learned from 9/11? Don't worry -- I'm not going to pull out flowery cliches about Carpe Diem and God has a plan and it all works out in the end. 9/11 doesn't work out. There is no amount of reasoning or religion that will make that day OK. There is no amount of ignorance or denial that will change the fact that everyday death is a reality for so many across the globe. My lesson from 9/11? I am one hell of a lucky girl. I live in a nation where people were running IN to burning buildings to save their fellow citizens. I live in a world where for everyone trying to destroy life -- there are others trying to preserve it.
Tomorrow when you turn the tv on to watch the coverage (you know you will) figure out what it means to you. Decide how the defining moment of our generation is going to define you. My goal -- still feel 9/11 next week. Still feel lucky when I pick up Jim's cereal bowl. Still feel privledged when I see someone flying the American flag. Still feel honored to serve families in times of loss -- whether that loss comes as a blessing or a tragedy. Still see God and know that 11 years ago Heaven was blessed with the arrival of 2,819 angels.
May God continue to bless the families of 9/11 victims, the first responders who showed the true courage and tenacity of the American spirit and our men and women in uniform -- who defend our freedom daily.
Thursday, September 6, 2012
That's Life, Baby.
"Life ain't always beautiful, but it's a beautiful ride" - Gary Allen
Life isn't always beautiful and like a NASCAR race, it's not always a beautiful ride - sorry Gary. And, unlike NASCAR, there's no safer barrier, no helmets, no holds barred. Sometimes it's OK, sometimes it's great and sometimes it's just plain ugly. That's life, baby.
I just got back from a trip to visit family in Michigan. Technically, they were Jim's family first - but, I love those Dobbins' like they were my own. We went up to visit for various reasons. But it was our first time away from the funeral home. Away - we thought - from the daily reminder of the circle of life. W.R.O.N.G. If ever there was a "full circle" trip -- this was it.
Let me back up. "That's life, Baby" -- the title of this blog is a phrase I find myself telling my husband all the time. We are running on zero sleep - that's life. We had an argument over replacing the roll of toilet paper - that's life. Our friends enjoyed a long summer of days on the beach, we spent long hours growing our business - that's life. God never promised it would be easy, He just promised He would always be with us. And, in the grand scheme of LIFE -- Jim and I are blessed beyond our wildest dreams. I have moments of doubt and so does he, but at the end of the day -- it doesn't get much better than this. I am married to my best friend - literally. Who else can you make up new words like "snarf" with, at the airport when some guy sounds like he just sneezed and barfed at the same time? And -- still be laughing about it 3 days later :) Who else knows you so well it's comforting and infuriating -- depending on the situation. We have a beautiful home, a growing business and live in a part of the country most people dream of visiting. But - life ain't always beautiful. Back to our Michigan trip.
I met my nephew. My sweet, snuggly, 6 month old miracle nephew. I rememebered what love at first sight felt like. (I've experienced it before -- I've got two nieces who have Auntie M wrapped right around their little fingers). My brother and sister in law tried for 6 years to have this little munchkin -- he is beautiful, he makes LIFE beautiful.
A month ago my brother in law had a horrible accident with a table saw. He lost one finger and may never regain full mobility of two more. Is he upset? Absolutely. Is he thinking about it when he holds his beautiful son? Maybe. But - when he's down on the floor, blowing on his tummy and making him laugh - I'm guessing a lot of things get put into perspective. That's life, baby. As my Mama D would say "Schtuff happens". And, sometimes that "Schtuff" sucks. Holding my nephew, seeing his Daddy in a way I've never seen him before -- sometimes that "Schtuff" is awesome.
Jim's uncle has cancer. Four words. One of which - cancer - is enough to send any of us running. He has a loving wife and two beautiful daughters who might, in no small way, have to face life with the hole of his loss. We had dinner with him - one of the best nights I've had in a long time, probably my entire life. We drank the good wine, told the great stories and said "I love you" without thinking about it. He and his wife recently traveled to Paris -- a top destination on my bucket list. I teased Jim about taking me there for my big 3-0 next year. 30 in Paris, what would be better. His uncle said - do it. Don't wait. I hope we hold on to that. Not that we go to Paris necessarily, but that we seize every opportunity - every day. It's so easy to get caught up. Date night can wait. The anniversary of the day we met isn't really THAT important. The movie will be there tomorrow, the restaurant will still be serving next Friday. But - none of us knows what our fate is. I wonder how many times Jim's uncle looks back and says - I wish I had taken that trip, surprised her for lunch, hugged them just a little tighter.
So, what's the difference between my beautiful nephew and Jim's uncle? What makes one the beautiful part of life and one the ugly part? Perspective? Maybe. One is at the beginning of life and one is staring down the barrel of the end. But -- aren't we all? I could die tomorrow and when all is said and done -- was my ride a beautiful one? That isn't decided by fate or circumstance -- it's decided by me. I can get fighting mad, or I can get mad and fight. I can sit down and take it as it comes -- or I can make it happen. I can't cure cancer. I can't make the hurt that life deals us go away. But, I can remind myself every day of my sweet nephew and the promise of new life. And, I can remind myself of Jim's uncle and the reality that life here on Earth is temporary and unpredictable. That's life, baby.
"Life ain't always beautiful, but it's a beautiful ride" - Gary Allen
Life isn't always beautiful and like a NASCAR race, it's not always a beautiful ride - sorry Gary. And, unlike NASCAR, there's no safer barrier, no helmets, no holds barred. Sometimes it's OK, sometimes it's great and sometimes it's just plain ugly. That's life, baby.
I just got back from a trip to visit family in Michigan. Technically, they were Jim's family first - but, I love those Dobbins' like they were my own. We went up to visit for various reasons. But it was our first time away from the funeral home. Away - we thought - from the daily reminder of the circle of life. W.R.O.N.G. If ever there was a "full circle" trip -- this was it.
Let me back up. "That's life, Baby" -- the title of this blog is a phrase I find myself telling my husband all the time. We are running on zero sleep - that's life. We had an argument over replacing the roll of toilet paper - that's life. Our friends enjoyed a long summer of days on the beach, we spent long hours growing our business - that's life. God never promised it would be easy, He just promised He would always be with us. And, in the grand scheme of LIFE -- Jim and I are blessed beyond our wildest dreams. I have moments of doubt and so does he, but at the end of the day -- it doesn't get much better than this. I am married to my best friend - literally. Who else can you make up new words like "snarf" with, at the airport when some guy sounds like he just sneezed and barfed at the same time? And -- still be laughing about it 3 days later :) Who else knows you so well it's comforting and infuriating -- depending on the situation. We have a beautiful home, a growing business and live in a part of the country most people dream of visiting. But - life ain't always beautiful. Back to our Michigan trip.
I met my nephew. My sweet, snuggly, 6 month old miracle nephew. I rememebered what love at first sight felt like. (I've experienced it before -- I've got two nieces who have Auntie M wrapped right around their little fingers). My brother and sister in law tried for 6 years to have this little munchkin -- he is beautiful, he makes LIFE beautiful.
A month ago my brother in law had a horrible accident with a table saw. He lost one finger and may never regain full mobility of two more. Is he upset? Absolutely. Is he thinking about it when he holds his beautiful son? Maybe. But - when he's down on the floor, blowing on his tummy and making him laugh - I'm guessing a lot of things get put into perspective. That's life, baby. As my Mama D would say "Schtuff happens". And, sometimes that "Schtuff" sucks. Holding my nephew, seeing his Daddy in a way I've never seen him before -- sometimes that "Schtuff" is awesome.
Jim's uncle has cancer. Four words. One of which - cancer - is enough to send any of us running. He has a loving wife and two beautiful daughters who might, in no small way, have to face life with the hole of his loss. We had dinner with him - one of the best nights I've had in a long time, probably my entire life. We drank the good wine, told the great stories and said "I love you" without thinking about it. He and his wife recently traveled to Paris -- a top destination on my bucket list. I teased Jim about taking me there for my big 3-0 next year. 30 in Paris, what would be better. His uncle said - do it. Don't wait. I hope we hold on to that. Not that we go to Paris necessarily, but that we seize every opportunity - every day. It's so easy to get caught up. Date night can wait. The anniversary of the day we met isn't really THAT important. The movie will be there tomorrow, the restaurant will still be serving next Friday. But - none of us knows what our fate is. I wonder how many times Jim's uncle looks back and says - I wish I had taken that trip, surprised her for lunch, hugged them just a little tighter.
So, what's the difference between my beautiful nephew and Jim's uncle? What makes one the beautiful part of life and one the ugly part? Perspective? Maybe. One is at the beginning of life and one is staring down the barrel of the end. But -- aren't we all? I could die tomorrow and when all is said and done -- was my ride a beautiful one? That isn't decided by fate or circumstance -- it's decided by me. I can get fighting mad, or I can get mad and fight. I can sit down and take it as it comes -- or I can make it happen. I can't cure cancer. I can't make the hurt that life deals us go away. But, I can remind myself every day of my sweet nephew and the promise of new life. And, I can remind myself of Jim's uncle and the reality that life here on Earth is temporary and unpredictable. That's life, baby.
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