So, like many, I have been thinking a lot about the final days of Jesus. As we approached Easter, attended Good Friday service last night and look forward to celebrating his resurrection tomorrow, I can't stop thinking about Judas. Is he the most sinful, evil human to ever live -- or a decent guy who made one HUGE mistake?
Jim and I recently saw a production of The Thorn. It's great. I loved it. Watching the Passion does something to me. I'm sure it does something to everyone - how can you watch the miraculous workings of Jesus, see him take on the sins of the world, witness the empty tomb and NOT be moved? The production comes to Charleston every few years - so I've seen it before. But this time - this time I couldn't take my eyes and my mind off Judas. As a key player in the biggest event EVER, how did I miss him before? I was so intrigued that I've spent a good bit of time researching this disciple turned betrayer. The Old Testament tells of a betrayer, as clearly as it speaks of a messiah. Many scholars on the subject believe God knew Judas would betray Jesus, but Judas still made the choice. So why do it? Why betray the man he'd followed for three years? Why then try to take the betrayal back? Why commit suicide after Jesus was crucified?
I don't know. The more I read, the more questions I have --- and my point of this post is not to debate the motivations of Judas, but rather to highlight that there is a Judas in all of us. What?! Did she really just call me Judas? Settle down. Yes, I did. Think you've never betrayed Jesus? You have. I have. It's called sin. To me, that's a betrayal. Especially because we know we're doing it.
Romans 7:18-20 (NIV)
18 For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. 19 For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. 20 Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it.
Not only do I find this a perfect illustration of all of us - but I would venture, a pretty good illustration of Judas. In any conversation about sin - comes the question of forgiveness. Did Jesus forgive Judas? Again, I don't know. Only the Lord knows the answer to that question. But --- I believe that IF Judas asked for forgiveness, it would have been granted. He committed suicide -- I would argue that showed remorse. But, I digress -- not my point here to argue the motivations of Judas. Forgiveness -- now, that's something to think about.
Ok- so, here's where I'm going with this. I am a sinner. I've made some pretty big mistakes in my life. Mistakes that would have separated me from God had Jesus not died to pay for my sins. God has forgiven me...."Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us" .... so I am called (no, REQUIRED) to forgive those who have done wrong to me. And...........enter the title of my post: Easter With Judas. How many of us feel like we are sitting across the Easter ham from our very own Judas? Kinda snuck up on ya with that one, didn't I? If you've never sinned in your life, point that finger. Hold out on forgiveness and judge the rest of us until Jesus comes back. But, if you're like me, and are saved by grace alone -- maybe you should turn that finger around and examine the Judas in the mirror. Just sayin'. Happy Easter, He is Risen! :)
Saturday, March 30, 2013
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
One Year Behind Us
I crack myself up sometimes. My last post (on February 1st !!) was entitled "Too Busy"... and, I haven't written a post since. Why? Because I've been too busy! Ahh.... thank God for irony. Now, without further delay, read on my friends!
One Year Behind Us
Well, on March 12th Simplicity Lowcountry Cremation & Burial closed the book on our first year in business. It was a whirlwind, to say the least. It seems like only yesterday Jim and I were painting at 2am and eating our body weight in Little Caesars. (oh, the happy days when gluten was still in my life...) We have been blessed to serve many families and hopefully provide them comfort during a difficult time. God, and I can say it had to be Him, has helped us put together an amazing staff and we are all finally feeling like we are "in the groove". When we started this journey, I made a list of things I learned during our first month in business. Well, its been a year and there isn't a day that goes by when I don't learn something new. But - for the sake of brevity, I picked my favorite 10 for you:
The 10 (new) Things I've Learned During Our 1st Year in Business:
10 - I am a licensed crematory operator. I won't go into all the things I had to learn to get that piece of paper, but trust me - I earned it.
9 - There is no end to the "death" jokes. Now I know what lawyers must feel like.
8 - I married a Dobbins. I had forgotten (briefly) the level of drive and determination they are born with. I remember now.
7 - Graveside services in the dead of winter (pun intended) are no place for fashion. Its cold. Dress accordingly. No family wants to see a funeral director's wife with blue lips, it's creepy.
6 - The intrigue of late night removals has worn off -- sleeping is better.
5 - Melt away peppermints are like crack, we go through buckets of them.
4 - It is possible to have hearse envy. Thank you Craig Kempf.
3 - I appreciate so much more what my parents must have gone through being in the funeral business in the 80s. No cell phones, no internet, no Facebook. How did they do it?!
2 - The police have a pretty fast response time to our facility - that's a comfort.
1 - This is only the beginning :)
One Year Behind Us
Well, on March 12th Simplicity Lowcountry Cremation & Burial closed the book on our first year in business. It was a whirlwind, to say the least. It seems like only yesterday Jim and I were painting at 2am and eating our body weight in Little Caesars. (oh, the happy days when gluten was still in my life...) We have been blessed to serve many families and hopefully provide them comfort during a difficult time. God, and I can say it had to be Him, has helped us put together an amazing staff and we are all finally feeling like we are "in the groove". When we started this journey, I made a list of things I learned during our first month in business. Well, its been a year and there isn't a day that goes by when I don't learn something new. But - for the sake of brevity, I picked my favorite 10 for you:
The 10 (new) Things I've Learned During Our 1st Year in Business:
10 - I am a licensed crematory operator. I won't go into all the things I had to learn to get that piece of paper, but trust me - I earned it.
9 - There is no end to the "death" jokes. Now I know what lawyers must feel like.
8 - I married a Dobbins. I had forgotten (briefly) the level of drive and determination they are born with. I remember now.
7 - Graveside services in the dead of winter (pun intended) are no place for fashion. Its cold. Dress accordingly. No family wants to see a funeral director's wife with blue lips, it's creepy.
6 - The intrigue of late night removals has worn off -- sleeping is better.
5 - Melt away peppermints are like crack, we go through buckets of them.
4 - It is possible to have hearse envy. Thank you Craig Kempf.
3 - I appreciate so much more what my parents must have gone through being in the funeral business in the 80s. No cell phones, no internet, no Facebook. How did they do it?!
2 - The police have a pretty fast response time to our facility - that's a comfort.
1 - This is only the beginning :)
Friday, February 1, 2013
Too Busy.
My new least favorite word in the English language is “Busy”. I just love talking to people and all they do is go on and on about how busy they’ve been. In my head, I always think “doing what?!” Then, undoubtedly I will be talking to someone and launch into how busy I’ve been…. I can feel the slap of my own words coming back at me… “Doing what?!”
What does this have to do with my life in the death care business? Everything. What does it have to do with you? Probably, a lot. We’ve all gotten so “busy” lately. I use the “quotes” because busy is subjective and more often I’ve realized, an excuse for not following through on something. Sorry I didn’t call you back – I’ve been busy. Sorry I didn’t get those cookies made for the bake sale – I’ve been busy. What am I really saying? I’m too busy for you or the commitment I made to you. Are we really all that busy? And if we are, what are we busy doing?
Jim hears it all the time in the funeral home. I wish we’d gotten to spend more time together – but you know, life gets busy. I meant to take her back to XYZ place before she died – but you know, life gets busy. I hear it, use it and deal with it in my own life. I’ve started 30 projects I haven’t finished. Why? I’m busy. I haven’t called my Grandmother since Thanksgiving. Why? I’m busy. (If you’re reading this Gram, I’ll call you soon – promise!) It’s excuse, after excuse, with excuses on top.
We live in 2013. 2013 people! We have phones that are smarter and more capable of getting stuff done than most people I know. We have all the technology, modern equipment and gadgets we need to make our lives easier. And yet, we’re busier than ever. I think back to the old days. People got up at the crack of dawn to WORK – really WORK. Manual labor stuff. Working like your life depended on it (because it did, back then) Not this stuff most of us do daily (no offense). THEN, they came home and the work didn’t stop. What do we do now? We have our kids in every activity imaginable – guess that counts as being busy. We fill our non-working hours with things that supposedly make us feel better about ourselves – “Me Time”, as they say. I don’t know about you, but other than that – I’m not really all that busy. I have a full time and then some job AND help my husband with our business when I can. I have two fur-kids who require attention (yes, just as much as human kids). I have a circle of friends. I have hobbies, like to stay fit and of course, have a house to keep up. (ish…) But, I still have time. More importantly than having extra, I could do a better job of prioritizing the time I have. That sound you just heard? That was me hitting the nail on the head. Priorities people, heard of ‘em?? That’s another soap box. (Yes, I have a soap box collection – get off me) You can’t afford groceries? Maybe you should get rid of that iPhone and the freshly manicured nails your texting on it with. P.R.I.O.R.I.T.I.E.S. (whew, I feel better now)
Sunday, December 16, 2012
Let's just take a breath....
He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say of the Lord, "He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust." Psalm 91
I've tried, tried for over 36 hours to close my eyes and pretend that Friday never happened. That 20 sweet, beautiful, innocent kindergartners are home with their parents tonight. But, they're not. And I can't make sense of it.
I wrote a blog on 9/11 about how 11 years later, I still can't wrap my head around the tragedy. Well, apparently the world wants to give me some practice because there hasn't been a shortage of tragedy lately. But, the latest act of violence...... is kindergartners. Angels, precious angels. I can't even put it into words -- and putting things into words, its what I do.
Friday, for the first time EVER, I got involved in a political discussion on Facebook. One of my friends made an ignorant comment (in my opinion) about gun control and after trying to process the killing of 20 children and listening to my coworkers incessant babble -- I put my two cents in. I got involved in a mug slinging, sensationalist political fist fight about gun control while 40 parents went home to empty houses and thought about making funeral arrangements for their kindergartners. What the hell is wrong with me?! What the hell is wrong with this world? How, in the name of God, could someone do this? How could anyone look a sweet, innocent child in the face and pull the trigger? I don't get it, I will never get it.
I'll save you the "Kumbaya", "Lets all get along" crap. I'm someone who's life literally revolves around death. Literally. I see it everyday of my life. And I don't have an answer for this one. I don't know how the families will ever move on. I don't know how the surviving students and teachers will ever recover. I don't know how any of us make sense of this.
And, to top it all off --- the sorry S.O.B responsible for yesterday's massacre killed himself. How convenient. The rest of us are left to pick up the pieces and he makes a calculated exit. Good thing I'm not the judge and jury for the hereafter.
And we all want to take this opportunity to beat our political and moral chests. Gun control this, pubic schools that. Really?! We want to make that the issue? A man walks into an elementary school and opens fire after killing his own mother and we want to argue with each other? GROW UP. The world is hard and it's getting harder everyday and we need to decide if we are living for this world or the next. We can scream about tougher gun laws and the pros of homeschooling all day long -- but it doesn't bring back 26 innocent lives. All I can do is pray. That's all I've got.
So, what to take away from this? You read my blog today looking for answers or a different perspective -- but you might walk away disappointed. All day Friday I kept thinking about two things. I got cut off on my way to work and not only blew the horn, but cursed the culprit. It was a girl, about my age -- who probably didn't see me. But, in my haste and hurry to get to work, I showed her much less than I was called to. I also thought about my beautiful niece who is in kindergarten. I could get through the day with watery eyes, but when I thought about her -- the waterworks started. Death at any age is hard for those left behind -- even when it comes as a blessing. But, the death of a 6 year old... there are no words.
So, my moral tonight is this: Let's all take a deep breath. Go hug your families. Snuggle those beautiful babies and tell your spouse you love them. Remember that we are called here to love each other. I'm not preaching a high and mighty sermon here -- I am trying to remind myself too. Everyday I have to make the decision if I am going to be who He called me to be, or if I am going to get down in the mud and join the fist fight. We've taken enough punches folks. It would be all too easy to let the events at Sandy Hook Elementary fill us with hate. Right now, I hate the man who robbed 26 families of their loved ones. Hate him. But, lucky for me I have a God whom I can pray to for the strength to find forgiveness. That's my prayer for all of us -- strength. I can't give you anything else but my prayers. I can't do anything for the victims, but pray. I can't think of anything that will help, but pray. So, pray. If you are a praying person - pray. If you've never prayed in your life - pray. Pray for the families, the first responders, the victims and the nation that tries to wrap our heads around it. Just take a breath and pray.
Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these." Matthew 19:14
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
Thanksgiving: Here's My Beef....
It makes me sick how sugary sweet, faux-thankful some people get this time of year. I love Thanksgiving, don't get me wrong. It's a holiday that gets too little attention -- with Christmas apparently starting in August these days. But should we need a holiday, a little turkey on the calendar to tell us we should be thankful? Now, keep your pants on as I explain --- this is going to offend some of you.
Lots of folks make lists this time of year of all the things they are thankful for. All the happy, joyous, beautiful things in their lives. I love the lists on Facebook --- "Today I am thankful for my wonderful job!" -- is that the same job you were complaining about yesterday, or is this a different one? Or, "Today I am thankful for my amazing Husband/Wife!" --- same one who didn't do XYZ right yesterday, or someone new? I'm guilty of this too folks -- no pointing fingers here. There is NOTHING wrong with being thankful this time of year. My fear and my concern is that we aren't thankful EVERY day for EVERY moment, event, person, breath in our lives. It's easy to be thankful for the cute babies and gorgeous homes. But, what about the crippling cancer that might rob you of your life --- but has brought you closer to your family and taught you to enjoy the moments you have? What about the first marriage that you are so embarrassed about? Without that -- you wouldn't be who you are today, loving your true love the way you were meant to. What about the house fire or flood that made you realize a "home" is not four walls and furniture?
I find myself getting so caught up in thinking about what "things" I have to be thankful for this time of year. I feel like I have to make them really good, so people will simultaneously think "she is so blessed and she is so humble!" Well, I AM blessed -- but some of the biggest blessings in my life have been things I promise you wouldn't find on any Facebook list this month. More than that -- I am (I am trying to be) thankful for the blessings in my life throughout the year, not just in November. It's a struggle, I'm not gonna lie. Life gets busy, the bills pile up, Jim leaves his cereal bowl on the counter AGAIN....and suddenly, I'm not thankful. Not in my heart, anyway. If someone asked me about my life, I would smile and say "oh yes! I am so blessed!!" But, I'm not always living as though I feel that way. I need to stop. I need to get over it and realize that I AM blessed, every day. Every circumstance, struggle, speed bump is an opportunity, a gift. Lofty? Absolutely. But, I've never been a girl who shys away from a challenge.
So this year, I am going to be thankful that I have the opporunity to move forward from this day striving to appreciate my life. Not just in the great moments, but in the tough ones too. I can appreciate my job, even on the days I want to stay home. I can appreciate my health, even on days when my Crohns Disease kicks me in the gut. I can appreciate my marriage, even on the days we need boxing gloves. Don't stop being especially thankful this time of year - lets all just try to remember that we are just as blessed on a Tuesday in April as we are on a Thursday in November.
Lots of folks make lists this time of year of all the things they are thankful for. All the happy, joyous, beautiful things in their lives. I love the lists on Facebook --- "Today I am thankful for my wonderful job!" -- is that the same job you were complaining about yesterday, or is this a different one? Or, "Today I am thankful for my amazing Husband/Wife!" --- same one who didn't do XYZ right yesterday, or someone new? I'm guilty of this too folks -- no pointing fingers here. There is NOTHING wrong with being thankful this time of year. My fear and my concern is that we aren't thankful EVERY day for EVERY moment, event, person, breath in our lives. It's easy to be thankful for the cute babies and gorgeous homes. But, what about the crippling cancer that might rob you of your life --- but has brought you closer to your family and taught you to enjoy the moments you have? What about the first marriage that you are so embarrassed about? Without that -- you wouldn't be who you are today, loving your true love the way you were meant to. What about the house fire or flood that made you realize a "home" is not four walls and furniture?
I find myself getting so caught up in thinking about what "things" I have to be thankful for this time of year. I feel like I have to make them really good, so people will simultaneously think "she is so blessed and she is so humble!" Well, I AM blessed -- but some of the biggest blessings in my life have been things I promise you wouldn't find on any Facebook list this month. More than that -- I am (I am trying to be) thankful for the blessings in my life throughout the year, not just in November. It's a struggle, I'm not gonna lie. Life gets busy, the bills pile up, Jim leaves his cereal bowl on the counter AGAIN....and suddenly, I'm not thankful. Not in my heart, anyway. If someone asked me about my life, I would smile and say "oh yes! I am so blessed!!" But, I'm not always living as though I feel that way. I need to stop. I need to get over it and realize that I AM blessed, every day. Every circumstance, struggle, speed bump is an opportunity, a gift. Lofty? Absolutely. But, I've never been a girl who shys away from a challenge.
So this year, I am going to be thankful that I have the opporunity to move forward from this day striving to appreciate my life. Not just in the great moments, but in the tough ones too. I can appreciate my job, even on the days I want to stay home. I can appreciate my health, even on days when my Crohns Disease kicks me in the gut. I can appreciate my marriage, even on the days we need boxing gloves. Don't stop being especially thankful this time of year - lets all just try to remember that we are just as blessed on a Tuesday in April as we are on a Thursday in November.
Saturday, October 6, 2012
Who's Calling?
Who's calling? Whose calling? Eiher way....I don't get it. What's my calling in life? Blogger extrordinare? Of course, but there must be something else.
I keep waiting for the call. It comes from God, I suppose. Does He call collect, because I'm not getting anything.
Jim's calling is to be a funeral director. I know that as sure as I am sitting here. I tell people that all the time. Especially when they ask - "how did he get into that?" He was called. I've never asked him how the conversation went, but the message was clear. How a man who shoots deer, yells at football referees on tv and will eat the last scoop of ice cream in a heart beat, can be one of the kindest, most compassionate people I've ever met is beyond me. But, when you experience a death - you want Jim Dobbins in your corner. He's calm, collected, yet warm and caring in difficult situations. He's genuine, honest, trustworthy and a man I can be proud to call my husband. His number one thought when working with a family is always the family. We opened Simplicity Lowcountry Cremation & Burial Services to give families another option. Jim couldn't stand to sit across from a grieving family and ask them for a $10K check for a funeral. And -- that's on the low end. Jim sees this as his way of helping people at one of the most difficult times of the lives. Honorable man, noble calling.
I - on the other hand - got nothing. I'm good at naps. A decent cook (haven't killed anyone yet). I aspire to be crafty, but Pinterest makes me feel so inadequate. I have a good job, that I am pretty good at --- but it certainly isn't my calling. Maybe my call will come later in life -- maybe I'm a late bloomer of sorts. Some people have suggested I write a book. Seems like an awful lot of work to go through with no guarantee any one will publish OR buy it. For a time I thought my calling was to be the perfect wife. But -- I'm sure fellow wives can agree with me -- "perfect" ain't gonna happen. So.....
What does all this have to do with the death care business? Well, a lot. At the end of your life you are basically reduced to a name, some dates and an occupation. So, it begs the question -- do you want a flashy title that reads well in the paper -- or a calling that truly made a difference? Not that the two are mutually exclusive - but sometimes that's the case.
I've come to realize that I am wonderful "support staff". I aspire to be the help mate God created me to be. To my husband, to our business, to my community. Maybe that isn't flashy, but it's who I am. Maybe I will write a book. Maybe I will be a mom someday. But ultimately, I can rest easy knowing that I was a steady, dependable presence in the lives of those I love and care about. How will that read in the paper? I need to start working on a way to make it sound a little sexier than just "Helper".
Maybe you are lucky enough to be doing what you love and loving what you do. But -- if you aren't.... dig deeper. Look past the salary, the corner office, the fancy title. We're all here for a reason, what's yours?
I keep waiting for the call. It comes from God, I suppose. Does He call collect, because I'm not getting anything.
Jim's calling is to be a funeral director. I know that as sure as I am sitting here. I tell people that all the time. Especially when they ask - "how did he get into that?" He was called. I've never asked him how the conversation went, but the message was clear. How a man who shoots deer, yells at football referees on tv and will eat the last scoop of ice cream in a heart beat, can be one of the kindest, most compassionate people I've ever met is beyond me. But, when you experience a death - you want Jim Dobbins in your corner. He's calm, collected, yet warm and caring in difficult situations. He's genuine, honest, trustworthy and a man I can be proud to call my husband. His number one thought when working with a family is always the family. We opened Simplicity Lowcountry Cremation & Burial Services to give families another option. Jim couldn't stand to sit across from a grieving family and ask them for a $10K check for a funeral. And -- that's on the low end. Jim sees this as his way of helping people at one of the most difficult times of the lives. Honorable man, noble calling.
I - on the other hand - got nothing. I'm good at naps. A decent cook (haven't killed anyone yet). I aspire to be crafty, but Pinterest makes me feel so inadequate. I have a good job, that I am pretty good at --- but it certainly isn't my calling. Maybe my call will come later in life -- maybe I'm a late bloomer of sorts. Some people have suggested I write a book. Seems like an awful lot of work to go through with no guarantee any one will publish OR buy it. For a time I thought my calling was to be the perfect wife. But -- I'm sure fellow wives can agree with me -- "perfect" ain't gonna happen. So.....
What does all this have to do with the death care business? Well, a lot. At the end of your life you are basically reduced to a name, some dates and an occupation. So, it begs the question -- do you want a flashy title that reads well in the paper -- or a calling that truly made a difference? Not that the two are mutually exclusive - but sometimes that's the case.
I've come to realize that I am wonderful "support staff". I aspire to be the help mate God created me to be. To my husband, to our business, to my community. Maybe that isn't flashy, but it's who I am. Maybe I will write a book. Maybe I will be a mom someday. But ultimately, I can rest easy knowing that I was a steady, dependable presence in the lives of those I love and care about. How will that read in the paper? I need to start working on a way to make it sound a little sexier than just "Helper".
Maybe you are lucky enough to be doing what you love and loving what you do. But -- if you aren't.... dig deeper. Look past the salary, the corner office, the fancy title. We're all here for a reason, what's yours?
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Dear Dad...
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
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
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