Traveling companions of the heart

Good morning my dear son. It is 4:01 in the morning. I am on the couch, in the dark with the dog quiety sleeping next to me, thinking about you. I know that it is early but I awoke early thinking about you and could not get back to sleep. Tomarrow will be another 4th of July week at the cabin without you. Is that what has me unsettled this morning?

This spring has been hell on me. Why this fifth year I do not know. I have been thinking about you everyday since the evening of Sunday March 6th. It was on the promenade deck watching the lights of a passing ship on the far horizon that I thought about you and I have not stopped.

Was it this long winter and long spring with an empty house with your brother and sister off to school? Is it my soul trying to shed the last of its pain after five years? I do not know.

If this is what they call learning to live and walk with it, well, it sucks to put it mildly. There has not been a day that has gone by, my drive to work, when I am alone at work, or when I lay my head down for the night that my soul does not shed a tear for you. Is it not time for this grief to loosen its grip from around my soul and move on?  Have I not loved and lost enough for this lifetime?

Yes, my dear son, I know as well as anybody that there are no answers to these quetions. It is life. It is living.

The lonely darkness and pain of loss is the companion of the beauty and the strength of love. One cannot feel the lonely darkness and pain of loss without love and one cannot know the beauty and strength of love without pain. They are companions in this long walk.

They are traveling companions my dear son. They walk together in the heart. It is life. It is living. There are no answers to this loss, only the soul trying to shed its pain.

It is time for me and Tyke to say goodbye and take a short drive with our traveling companion, Bob Segar. Should I head east, west, north or south? I guess it does not matter. All that matters is it will settle my soul this morning.

Love from the heart, and miss you dearly.

Your Dad.

Your spring walk within me.

Spring has come, your favorite season, and once again thoughts of you have left me lost once again my dear son, not sure of myself nor of the road that I have been traveling. Sometimes my dear son it is easier to let others speak for you.

I Am Not Gone

by Nicholas Evans

If I be the first of us to die,
Let grief not blacken long your sky.
Be bold yet modest in your grieving.
There is a change but not a leaving.
For just as death is part of life,
The dead live on forever in the living.
And all the gathered riches of our journey,
The moments shared, the mysteries explored,
The steady layering of intimacy stored,
The things that made us laugh or weep or sing,
The joy of sunlit snow or first unfurling of the spring,
The wordless language of look and touch,
The knowing,
Each giving and each taking,
These are not flowers that fade,
Nor trees that fall and crumble,
Nor are they stone,
For even stone cannot the wind and rain withstand
And mighty mountain peaks in time reduce to sand.
What we were, we are.
What we had, we have.
A conjoined past imperishably present.
So when you walk the wood where once we walked together
And scan in vain the dappled bank beside you for my shadow,
Or pause where we always did upon the hill to gaze across the land,
And spotting something, reach by habit for my hand,
And finding none, feel sorrow start to steal upon you,
Be still.
Close your eyes.
Breathe.
Listen for my footfall in your heart.
I am not gone but merely walk within you.

She Does Not Ask

Tomorrow my dear son we are off to the Caribbean. I am anxious about the flight. I know it is irrational but when life thrusts it’s pain deep into your soul you feel life everyday. One moment, one small heart beat, one second and your life changes in ways that you could not imagine. The sequence of living has been disrupted and you are left to find your way once again.

Life does not ask you, she does not wait for you. It is up to each of us to learn how to move and live within her.

I try to see life as she is rather then my minds version of life. Sometimes we have to surrender our need to know or understand her. That is both the challenge and the joy of living within her.

When I am sitting on that balcony on the Ruby Princess looking out over the horizon I will be thinking of your my dear son. I will see her as you did, just living. I will see that “simply complexity” with the joy of being in that moment as you were.

No, life does not ask and it is not for me to complain about what life gives me. It is up to me and only me to decide how I want to live within her.

That is the only choice that life gives you.

Love from the heart,

You dad

The Long Winter of My Soul

It would seem that this unsettled soul has united us again in the early morning of this winter. It has been a long winter, lots of snow and cold, but this week winter has thrown us some warm weather. I guess he is reminding us that spring is on the way, to be patient and we will eventually have the joy of spring.

I have missed you terribly these past few weeks my dear son. The tears do not fall upon this heart with the great pain that they once did but they still fall.

Maybe it is the winter that has caused this soul to shed its tears. I do not know. This winter has been long but then again what would be the gift of spring without winter. Is it not the winter that reminds us that which we would miss if what we loved were not here? Is winter not the gift for spring?

Yes, this soul longs for spring. It longs for spring so that it can feel the earth on it’s feet as you once did, so that it can touch what you loved, see what you loved, hear what you loved, and breath what you loved, so that it can stop and take in the wonder of what you called the simple complexity of life, this thing we call living.

Is the “winter” of my soul trying to find the gift of spring? Is that why I share this pain with those around me? Is it a way of giving meaning to your life? Is it my redemption for not telling you everyday that I loved you, for not holding you in my arms enough? Is it my redemption for not seeing the “winter” of my soul? Maybe? Maybe not? I do not know, but I see it now my dear son.

I see it now. It is the gift of winter that brings us the gift of spring and for that gift I promise you this my dear son, that the long “winter” of my soul will not be forgotten so that the gift of spring will always be felt. When someone gives me the gift of laughter or the gift of a smile I will see it, I will see it because of the gift of the long “winter” of my soul.

I think this morning I will take a drive east on 94 into Wisconsin and meet another small gift, the morning sun, with Tyke of course. What would be a morning drive without the dog curled up on his heated seat keeping me company. I will bore him with Bob Segar and my talk. He is a very good listener though.

It is time to say goodbye again my dear son. The tea pot is screaming at me. It is time to prepare my  green tea, meet Tyke at the door and meet the east sun.

I miss you terribly.

Love from the heart,

Your Dad

I have to learn to be a better gardener without you.

Twenty one. Happy birthday my dear son.  I miss you terribly.

My heart has been heavy these past weeks. I had thought that I was able to move on but I guess that does not happen so easily. No, it no longer has the power to drive me to my knees or isolate me from the world. It is now a lighter burden that I must carry, for a longer distance, and a greater amount of time. I do not know how a heart can give up that which it has so tenderly and deeply loved?

I do not know. Does it matter. Will those answers get me there faster, where ever or when ever “that” is.

Answers have been in short supply these past few years as has my confidence in knowing what path to take. Maybe I should be more spontaneous and not care where it takes me, trust my instincts, believe in myself again.

I do not know what to do with myself. I feel lost, wandering in the middle of a forest, not knowing which direction to take, not sure where this or that path will take me.

I sometimes get in my car and drive, sometimes with the radio on, sometimes off, drive east on 94 to Wisconsin and back again, north on 35, south on 494, or west on 694, in the morning, in the evening, once, twice, three times a week, going somewhere but nowhere. This traveling without a destination, this wondering, brings peace to my soul and sometimes, occasionally, when I need to push through the gears with anger I will.

And, yes, my constant companion, the dog, comes with me. Why would I expect anything less. As I put on my coat and boots, with his tail wagging, he patiently waits for me to open the house door, and when that door opens he bursts through it to the next door, the garage, patiently waiting again for me. I open the garage door, then the passenger door of the car, jumping up to the seat, walking in a circle four or five times, he curls up and takes a deep breath of finality.

I walk around, get into the car, start the car, open the garage door and for his quiet company I turn on his seat heater. There he sleeps until he hears us arriving home again. He doesn’t talk much, and he sleeps most of the time, but he’s there when I need him, when I need to talk to him about you, pet him on his back, or just rub his neck. It is upon arriving back at home that his ears perk up once again, in a hurry to get out of the car as if I were not good company.

It is that “wondering” where I can grieve for you my dear son, grieve for you without the burden of being strong. It is my moment to feel my heart, to let it breath as it does now at this keyboard. It allows me to tenderly plunge my heart back into living.

Yes, my dear son, I miss you terribly over the holidays. There is nothing I can do but wander and wait, somewhere but nowhere, today or tomorrow, waiting, waiting for something somewhere.

I have heard it said that life is made of days and days are made of moments and that a “life well lived is firmly planted in the sweet soil of moments” and that we must “plant seeds of grace that grow only in the soil of loving attention and mindful time.”

I have to learn to be a better gardener without you my dear son.

That will take time.

 

Love from the heart

 

Your Dad

That Day Has Arrived

That day has come my dear son. It no longer pounds me against those sharp rocks. It is no longer able to pull me under. This grief has lost it’s energy to kill me. This heavy emptiness that has driven me to my knees is no longer heavy, it is an emptiness that I can now bear, a burden that I can now carry and walk with as this fourth lifetime has started.

It does not mean that I will forget you, nor does it mean that I will not cry for you because I still do as I do now. It means that I have survived this onslaught, that I can start to move forward and live, to live my life more fully with humility, empathy, compassion and forgiveness as I had promised you. To live as you are not able to, to “live happily” as you said in your school essay “Who Am I”. That I promise you my dear son.

It does not mean that I will forget you, nor does it mean that I will not cry for you. I will cry for you when your brother and sister graduate from college and when they find their first job. I will cry for you when their is a wedding or birth in the family. Yes, I will cry for you my dear son, forever young at sixteen, missing you, missing that smile, those blues eyes, that laugh, the embrace of your hug, the smell of your hair and to tell you that I love you, the greatest gift that one human being can give to another, their love.

I will always cry for you my dear son, always. That is burden I can now bear, that is a burden I can now walk with as I begin this fourth lifetime without you.

Love from the heart,

Your Dad

PS I hope you do not mind if I share your 10th grade essay below.

Who Am I

Who am I? This is a question I can now answer. I am a kid that loves to be outside. I love to be around animals. I love to be around plants, and I like to take care of them. I love to watch movies, and would like to make one, one day. I have many hobbies, these include being outside, playing games, drawing and painting, being around animals, watching movies, and collecting plants. I love to be outdoors, in fact if I could be anywhere in the world, I wouldn’t care as long as I’m outdoors. I love animals, I love being around them and I love to take care of them. I like learning about them and their environment and how they live. A new hobby I have is collecting plants. I like plants because they make me feel outdoors. They add a sense of life in a dull room, and I enjoy caring for them. Playing video games is one of my favorite things to do. I just love playing them. When I play video games it makes me feel like I am in that specific world that the video game takes place in. My favorite game is Halo two. I am an artist. I love to draw and paint. And I am quite good at it, I like to draw fantasy creatures and worlds. Drawing helps me to relax. I am a big movie fan, especially lord of the rings. I just like movies (who doesn’t). But I like them so much that I want to direct a movie once.

I have many goals in life. But they all add up to one big simple one: live happily. In order to accomplish this I have many “lesser” goals to attend two. Fist is to graduate high school. I want to “pass” not just pass. I then want to go to college, somewhere like the University of MN, or somewhere nearby. I want to go to the University of MN because it has many science classes in which I need to take in order to become a zoologist, which is one of the things I want to be when I grow up. I want to get Through College. i will then become what I really want to be, a zoologist. If I can’t get that job then I want to become an artist or movie director. Once I get a good paying job I will start a family. In order to accomplish all of this I first have to pass high school then I have to pass college and get a good paying job. During college I will probably live with my parents if I go to school nearby. If I have to move I would have to get a place that allows pets, since I have many. I will have to get a good paying job to help pay for college.

I want to be a zoologist because I love animals and I love to be outside I love to observe how the certain animals live, breed, defend and all sorts of things. I might also want to be an artist or director

Is It Time?

Is it time my dear Robert? Is it time to say goodbye my dear son? If it is then how does one say goodbye? What does that look like? It has been four years and I still miss you deeply my dear Robert. This year has beaten me down to my knees more than at anytime in these four years.

Today, alone in this house, I missed you so much that I needed to watch the old videos of you, the last one being September 1, 2006. I have not done this for over two years. Remember that evening on September 1? It was the end of summer party before you started your junior year. You and your friends were gathered around the fire and you were telling a scary story. I remember it clearly. It is the closest that I can get to you. I can see you and hear you, it lightens that heavy emptiness that travels with me, a journey that has brought me through three lifetimes, one more than any man should be asked to live.

I was born on November 24th, 1958, my first lifetime, full of dreams, hopes, adventures and youth. You were the beginning of my second life, our first child, born on December 28th, 1989, full of pride, joy, purpose, and love. My third life began September 14th, 2006, full of unanswered questions, pain, tears, and love, surviving, some days sinking, some days swimming and most days just floating. I have been living that life hoping and waiting for that fourth lifetime to begin. What that looks like I do not know and when it will arrive, again, I do not know, unanswered questions. Does it start when I can say goodbye Robert, is it when I can let go?

Swimming, sinking, floating, surviving, this is what this third lifetime is about. It is about surviving, it is about this poem that I found.

 

My Dad Is A Survivor

My dad is a survivor too…
which is no surprise to me.
He’s always been like a lighthouse
that helps you cross a stormy sea.

But, I walk with my dad each day
to lift him when he’s down.
I wipe the tears he hides from others.
He cries when no one’s around.

I watch him sit up late at night
with my picture in his hand.
He cries as he tries to grieve alone,
and wishes he could understand.

My dad is like a tower of strength.
He’s the greatest of then all!
But there are times when he needs to cry…
Please be there when he falls.

Hold his hand or pat his shoulder…
and tell him it’s okay.
Be his strength when he’s sad
Help him mourn in his own way.

Now, as I watch over my precious dad
from the Heavens up above
I’m so proud that he’s a survivor…
And, I can still feel his love!

 

A survivor? I am tired of being a survivor. Is it time? Is it time to say goodbye my dear Robert? Is it time to let go and carry you in my heart?

 

Love from heart,

 

Your Dad