Showing posts with label father. Show all posts
Showing posts with label father. Show all posts

Sunday, March 20, 2016

Rest in Peace

                       

     After eighty-five years on this earth, my father died March 5th, achieving a goal he had set for himself decades ago - "I'm going to live to be 85." An adventurer, life-long scholar, health conscious man with a can-do attitude, he lived a long, full life. Fortunately, he did not have to endure a prolonged period of suffering before he died.
     The last time I saw him, before visiting him in the hospice the day before he died, was at my son's funeral, five years ago. The difficult relationship between my father and I resulted in estrangement from one another for the past seven years. However, I am grateful for the many opportunities he offered me for personal growth - no regrets. And he excelled at being an Opa, throwing himself fully into that role with his five grandchildren. 
     Still enjoying downhill skiing a couple of months before he died, it was fitting that he was buried with his ski poles. May he rest in peace and fully experience love on the other side. I continue to send him mine.
www.diaryofanintuitive.com

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

Relative Signs











     This past week was filled with incredible synchronicity, revolving around the two themes of communication and family of origin. The family that I chose to be born into has not been without its challenges, as is the case with most, if not all, families. Family is where so much of our learning occurs, offering great opportunities for growth. The circumstances in my family of origin led to our current situation, where neither my brother (my only sibling) nor I have had any contact with my father for over six years (outside of my son's funeral), the consequence of heartbreaking communication. Our mother, with whom my brother and I were close, died nearly thirteen years ago. Numerous signs flooded in this week, dancing over, and around, all of this - unmistakably powerful and incredibly supportive. 
     Early in the week, I emailed birthday greetings to a paternal aunt who had been a huge part of my life, before cutting off all communication with me, without explanation, a year and a half ago. I think of her often. About an hour after sending that email, I received a phone call from an unknown number. The caller turned out to be a woman I had met once, seventeen years ago, at a birthday party I had hosted for this aunt. The woman explained that she had been an old friend of my aunt's for decades but had had no contact with her for many years now, having been cut off without any explanation. She thought of her often and was contacting me to find out how she was doing. Crazy circumstances, indeed.
     A few days later, I was following up after a call I had made the week before to my mother's only sibling, my maternal aunt in Germany. I wrote her a card, enclosing a photo of her sister's memorial bench, as well as a picture of my grandchildren. She is the only relative I have long-standing, albeit limited, contact with over there. Our communication consists primarily of an annual Christmas card to each other, but for some reason, I had felt the urge to call her.  Later this same day, with the envelope lying on my desk, still waiting to be mailed, I received a Facebook friend request from a woman in Germany, a daughter of one my father's friends, not connected to my maternal aunt at all. The last time I had had any contact with that person and her family was during our family vacation to that country, eighteen years ago. Curious timing, for sure.
     Then, on the weekend, I stopped in at the cemetery, an hour's drive from home, to place flowers on my mother's grave. I only visit a couple of times a year now, preferring to adorn her memorial bench located in my neighbourhood, instead.  The actual date of this particular visit had no significance - I just happened to be out that way for a dinner date with friends. A short time later, my brother texted me, wanting to confirm the date of our mother's birthday. I fleetingly thought he was joking since he always makes a point of acknowledging our family birthdays. When I asked him about it, he told me that he had been thinking about our mom and had momentarily forgotten when hers was. A brief memory lapse required in order for this loving connection to be made.
     Individually, each of these three days had great significance. Taken in its entirety, the week was over the top, and made a huge impression. A colleague of mine refers to these signs as Relative signs, since they relate to what is transpiring in ones life. The fact that the Relative signs happened to involve my relatives, is perfect. Feeling immensely supported by the visible and invisible, I continue to process it all.

www.diaryofanintuitive.com

Friday, January 17, 2014

Another Grave to Tend

This week, I was informed via snail mail from Germany, that an uncle of mine had passed two days before Christmas.  Sadly, he had smoked himself to death.  He and I were not very close.  Outside my handful of visits there, we had little contact.  Through my aunt's annual Christmas cards, I received updates on their lives.  And even though they were well off, it is likely that she would have considered it an unnecessary extravagance to give me the news of his passing via a long distance call.  And computers are not part of her world.  This aunt, now in her mid-seventies, is no stranger to grief.  She was a four-year-old child when her father died. As a young mother, she had buried her baby boy within days of his birth.  Some years later, her mother passed.  Then, nearly twelve years ago, she experienced the loss of her only sibling, my mother.  Now, with her only child living a fair distance away, and without any friends to speak of, she will understandably feel very alone. I hope she finds comfort in her religious beliefs, as well as support from her church.  And, as she continues taking her daily stroll to the cemetery across the street, to tend yet another grave, I hope she feels the presence of her God walking with her.

Thursday, November 29, 2012

Grave Secret

While awaiting a recent flight home.  Standing in line at airport security, after snaking back and forth between the numerous banded posts.  Noticing three men wind their way towards me.  Two in their late eighties, along with one of middle age.  Overhearing snippets of their conversation, as they pass by.  Learning two are father and son. Gleaning all three to be churchgoers.  The younger one mentioning how wonderful it is that he lives so close to his place of worship.  They then moving away from me, along the length of the line, only to return again. This time, in a grave voice, one of the older men revealing, "I kept it a secret until he died."  Arriving at the front of the line, I get waved up to place personal items on the conveyor belt.  Leaving the men behind, my mind does somersaults.  Who was it?  What was their relationship?  Was it church related?  Why did he feel it needed to be kept secret?  Were there unintended consequences?  What price did he pay?  I will never know the circumstances of this particular situation. My heart hoping he is at peace with it now.

Sunday, April 29, 2012

Cherished Gift

Transitioning from there to here, swiftly and safely.  Beautiful baby Kennedy arriving mere hours ago.  A little girl, just as the pendulum had indicated months ago.  My heart overflowing with love and joy in the presence of her perfection.  Listening to those precious sounds of contentment as she nestled near her mother's breast.  Seeing her father's face reflect great wonder and delight.  Smelling her softness in my arms.  So very grateful for this cherished gift of a granddaughter. Welcome to our family little one.  You have chosen well.  

Monday, February 13, 2012

Intriguing Obituaries

Browsing through the obituaries in the paper this morning.  Something I have done for years.  True to that Scorpio trait of being intrigued by death.  Noting the words chosen when condensing a life into a few sentences.  Reading between the lines.  Observing which aspects of a person's lifetime are included and considering those which might purposefully be omitted.  Paying attention to their ages.  A few living mere hours, some over one hundred years.  Most falling somewhere in-between.  Wondering about those indicating no service by request. Recognizing that the majority of obituaries are written by loved ones, a number by care facilities, and on occasion, by the individual themselves.  An exercise my son had undertaken less than a year before he died.  Unbeknownst to his family.  To facilitate gaining clarity for himself.  Sealing it in an envelope.  One of his sisters discovering it within days of his passing.  His father reading it aloud at his funeral. Imparting a clear sense of what was in Michael's heart and what he aspired to be remembered for.  Ending with, "You will be greatly missed!"  Indeed, he certainly is.

Friday, December 9, 2011

Birthday Presence

Dear Kelly,
As your father and brothers celebrate yours and your twin's birthday this weekend, I call upon you to draw in close.  That they may feel your presence and know you are there with them.  To remind them that you will always be part of the family.  As for me, I am so glad you were born and in my life.  Such strength, compassion, love, and optimism.  Thank you for being you.   
All my love,
Vera

Friday, November 11, 2011

Remembrance Day 11-11-11

Pondering this holiday.  Remembrance Day.  Evoking confusion and sadness within.  Born in Canada in the 50's to newly arrived German immigrant parents.  Before reaching their teens, both left fatherless due to the war.  My father frequently imparting stories at our dinner table of those horrific years.  His underlying anger while describing frequent bombings, scarce resources, bloodshed, and lives lost.  Often blaming the enemy.  Portraying his family and friends as the victims.  Truly patriotic.  As a young person, all of this leaving me quite confused. Wondering about the glaring omission of the fact that his leaders had instigated that violence.  Later understanding that his upbringing was yet another tragic war casualty.  The children all victims of course. Subsequently noting my father and father-in-law technically enemies before my birth.  The latter enlisting with the Royal Canadian Air Force. Dropping bombs overseas.  My life informed by these two families on opposing sides of those circumstances.  Born into one, married into the other.  Leaving me somewhere in-between.  Thinking of all those who have needlessly suffered in countless wars.  Saving the poppies for others to wear.

Monday, September 12, 2011

Roller-Coaster Ride

Saturday afternoon.  Feeling such contentment after a long walk on the back roads.  Preparing a lunch to enjoy on the beach.  Glancing out the window.  Seeing my husband hunched over the workbench below.  The scene before me causing my heart to leap up into my throat.  Saw in hand.  Two long, thin pieces of wood beside him.  Building a cross.  To commemorate the accident site.  The vulnerability of this moment hitting me hard.  Knowing a father never imagines this would ever be asked of him.  A spur of the moment decision for him to start this project now.  The concept of a memorial for that spot discussed but not finalized.  Together agreeing to explore options for a suitable plaque before continuing on.  A short time later, both able to savour our meal and the remainder of the day.  A wild and crazy roller-coaster ride indeed. 

Friday, June 17, 2011

Father's Day

As I reflect upon this upcoming Father's Day, many thoughts come flooding in.  Gratitude for the challenging relationship between my father and I which has enabled me to learn so much.  Loving him but choosing not to spend time with him.  Our karma.  As for my husband, he and his father of 87 years keep in touch regularly, and will celebrate their relationship with a shared meal tonight.  The space that was filled with Michael will loom large as one father sits with his only son, who in turn is enduring the loss of his only son.  Sunday, golf and a BBQ where my husband will be showered with love from his living children.  Different fathers, different experiences.  All receiving love.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

We Choose Our Parents

The first time I heard the concept "We Choose our Parents", was when I was in my early twenties. I remember being very confused by it at the time but it stuck with me and over the years I slowly began to comprehend and know that it was so. As I struggled to understand the challenging relationship I had with my father, it helped immensely when I was finally able to see that he was absolutely the right father for me and that I had learned so much from him. By acknowledging that I had chosen him to be my father, it allowed me to feel grateful and know that without him, I would not be the person I am today. As a parent myself, this understanding is a great comfort to me - knowing that my children came into this world choosing me to be their mother and that our relationship was chosen in order to continue challenging us to be the greatest version of ourselves.