Dear Dad,
I am having a boy! You'd be so thrilled! If only you were still alive to meet your new grandson, to hold him and rock him and play with him.
If only you were still alive, our relationship would be so different - now that I'm older, now that I'm married, now that I'm about to become a parent myself.
If only I had been able to love you better while you were alive. If only I weren't so afraid. If only you weren't so afraid to love me better. But you are gone. And I'm learning, there can still be healing; there can still be redemption. And while I wish you were still alive, I know in my heart, you aren't supposed to be. I don't know why but I know it's true.
If you were still alive, I'd give you a big hug and a big kiss and I'd tell you I love you. And we'd go for a walk together on the pier and I'd tell you all about my ultrasound and my hopes and dreams for Baby Boy Boo. And as soon as he's able to walk, you'd want to take him to the track to run laps and Baby Boo would treasure that time with his grandpa.
Instead, I will tell Baby Boo about his grandfather and I will keep a picture of you in his nursery. And when he is older, I will bring him to your grave so he can know who this man is he was named after.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Running as a metaphor
It's been a long time and lots have changed since my last post. The biggest & most wonderful change is that Rob & I are anticipating our first baby July 1, 2007. This of course greatly affects me getting back into running at this point. I feel sad when I think about having a baby and my dad never getting to hold him or her, know him or her, play with him or her. It would have been such a wonderful thing for my heart (and for his heart as well I am sure). Then I get angry that he had to die...
So, I've decided that "running" with dad can be a metaphor as well as literal. Perhaps it always has been. Right now, during this period of my life, being newly pregnant for the first time, thinking about becoming a parent makes me think about my dad as a parent. He's gone, but perhaps becoming a parent myself will draw me closer to my dad in ways I never could have when he was alive.
So, I've decided that "running" with dad can be a metaphor as well as literal. Perhaps it always has been. Right now, during this period of my life, being newly pregnant for the first time, thinking about becoming a parent makes me think about my dad as a parent. He's gone, but perhaps becoming a parent myself will draw me closer to my dad in ways I never could have when he was alive.
Friday, July 21, 2006
If we were in a movie, there'd be a sappy love song playing now
Rob and I did something last night we said we'd never do. We didn't plan for it to happen... it just did. Looking back now, I don't even know how it happened but it did and there's no going back now. We are changed forever because of it. Was it worth it? oh yeah. Will we do it again? oh yeah. Last night, Rob & I ran a whole mile together. There we were on the bike path, running... together. Wheezing, nauseous, muscles screaming, yes, but running together! It was a landmark event for us. And, my compartment syndrome didn't flare up at all! I guess what I've been doing at PT has been helping. How good it is for couples to exercise together! I'm looking forward already to our next time... just not for a few days...
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Pictures
July 10, 2006, 10:44 p.m. I am crying. It's been a long time since I've cried. I used to cry. I used to overflow often. Now I've become a controlled shutdown women and I do not like that. I know that is not who I am, down where the deep waters flow. But at 10:45 p.m., my throat is burning and aching from trying to hold it all together and hold it all in. The tears are seeping out now and letting go, even for the few minutes I allow myself, feels good.
I had been looking at pictures. You could call them before and after pictures but I don't have any "after" pictures yet. I'm still stuck in the "before" pictures. They were pictures from Maine - award-winning pictures, if I may say so, of the rocky coast and local hot spots we visited. Plus, many shots taken of Rob and of me and of his parents who we were vacationing with. We had just purchased a digital camera before the trip so we took lots of pictures. I think we ended up with 200 some pictures when we downloaded them to our computer! I have a love-hate relationship with the camera. I love taking pictures; I don't like pictures taken of me.
Looking through the pictures, I wanted to delete all the pictures of me. I'm mad at those pictures. Those pictures betray me. Those pictures reveal a truth I can no longer deny by taking down all full length mirrors in our home. Quick! Delete them! Shred them! As if those pictures were proof of some dark and sinful deed; as if they were taken by a private investigator catching me in the arms of a man other than my husband. How ashamed and embarrased I felt looking at those pictures. If anyone were to see them, my dark secret would be exposed.
And here's my dark secret: I've gained 50 pounds in the last 4 years. It's hard to even write that. Alot of things have contributed to my weight gain - mainly not being able to run anymore, emotional eating, losing my dad. I saw a woman in those pictures I did not recognize... a woman I did not like. And a woman I'm glad my dad doesn't have to see. But in every one of those pictures I hate, if I look closely, far off in the distance I see a lone shadowy figure. Zooming in, I see my dad in every one of those pictures. I see a large me and a tiny blurry figure of my dad.
Would you be disappointed by my weight gain, Dad? Would you feel like I had failed? I feel disappointed; I feel like a failure. And I feel sad that I feel those things about myself and that in my heart I believe my dad would feel those things about me. And while I'm crying about my weight, I know I'm crying about so much more than that. My weight is where my focus and my anger and my grief go until I'm willing to dive into the deep blue waters below. I see my dad in those pictures and yet I know he'll never be in another picture ever again. He'll never be in our wedding pictures; he'll never be in pictures holding our future babies. Why does my grief over losing my dad cause me to hate my body so much?
I had been looking at pictures. You could call them before and after pictures but I don't have any "after" pictures yet. I'm still stuck in the "before" pictures. They were pictures from Maine - award-winning pictures, if I may say so, of the rocky coast and local hot spots we visited. Plus, many shots taken of Rob and of me and of his parents who we were vacationing with. We had just purchased a digital camera before the trip so we took lots of pictures. I think we ended up with 200 some pictures when we downloaded them to our computer! I have a love-hate relationship with the camera. I love taking pictures; I don't like pictures taken of me.
Looking through the pictures, I wanted to delete all the pictures of me. I'm mad at those pictures. Those pictures betray me. Those pictures reveal a truth I can no longer deny by taking down all full length mirrors in our home. Quick! Delete them! Shred them! As if those pictures were proof of some dark and sinful deed; as if they were taken by a private investigator catching me in the arms of a man other than my husband. How ashamed and embarrased I felt looking at those pictures. If anyone were to see them, my dark secret would be exposed.
And here's my dark secret: I've gained 50 pounds in the last 4 years. It's hard to even write that. Alot of things have contributed to my weight gain - mainly not being able to run anymore, emotional eating, losing my dad. I saw a woman in those pictures I did not recognize... a woman I did not like. And a woman I'm glad my dad doesn't have to see. But in every one of those pictures I hate, if I look closely, far off in the distance I see a lone shadowy figure. Zooming in, I see my dad in every one of those pictures. I see a large me and a tiny blurry figure of my dad.
Would you be disappointed by my weight gain, Dad? Would you feel like I had failed? I feel disappointed; I feel like a failure. And I feel sad that I feel those things about myself and that in my heart I believe my dad would feel those things about me. And while I'm crying about my weight, I know I'm crying about so much more than that. My weight is where my focus and my anger and my grief go until I'm willing to dive into the deep blue waters below. I see my dad in those pictures and yet I know he'll never be in another picture ever again. He'll never be in our wedding pictures; he'll never be in pictures holding our future babies. Why does my grief over losing my dad cause me to hate my body so much?
Friday, June 23, 2006
My week
It's been a big body-work week for me... I did pilates 4 days, chiropractor 1 day, and physical therapy 3 days. I'm feeling pretty darn good though. Next week I have 4 more days of pilates, 3 more days of PT and a medical massage. Plus our counseling practice has really been taking off these days. I have 2 new clients next week and the possibility of 3 more referrals that are on their way! It really seems to confirm to me that quitting Barnes & Noble was a good move. I feel so thankful and so blessed.
Do any of you know if rebound headaches are for real or just a myth? (They should test that on Mythbusters!) This past week I had 3 migraines 3 days in a row. I took Imitrex each time and wonder if that brought on rebound headaches? I can't get a straight answer out of doctors or pharmacists about that (of course). Anyway, 3 migraines in a row like that is unusual for me. I usually get 1 or 2 spread out throughout a month. I don't like taking something as powerful to my system as Imitrex is. I used to take over-the-counter Orudis & that worked wonders but then they pulled it off the market because supply & demand weren't adding up. I am missing my Orudis!
Migraines could have been a result of all the body-work I did this week too...
I'm looking forward to nothing but leisurely walks & doing some stretching exercises this weekend and that's it for weekend body-work. I'm taking it easy the next few days.
Hope you all are enjoying your summer! Have a wonderful weekend!
Do any of you know if rebound headaches are for real or just a myth? (They should test that on Mythbusters!) This past week I had 3 migraines 3 days in a row. I took Imitrex each time and wonder if that brought on rebound headaches? I can't get a straight answer out of doctors or pharmacists about that (of course). Anyway, 3 migraines in a row like that is unusual for me. I usually get 1 or 2 spread out throughout a month. I don't like taking something as powerful to my system as Imitrex is. I used to take over-the-counter Orudis & that worked wonders but then they pulled it off the market because supply & demand weren't adding up. I am missing my Orudis!
Migraines could have been a result of all the body-work I did this week too...
I'm looking forward to nothing but leisurely walks & doing some stretching exercises this weekend and that's it for weekend body-work. I'm taking it easy the next few days.
Hope you all are enjoying your summer! Have a wonderful weekend!
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Father God
I just finished reading Donald Miller's latest book, To Own a Dragon. It's Don's reflections on growing up without a father. It's mostly about father-son relationships (or a lack thereof) so I didn't get as much out of it as his other books but there was one thing that stood out for me. He was writing about God fathering us and he wrote that our Father in Heaven is not afraid to be close to us. That thought stunned me. I've only known a father who was afraid to be close to me. But God is not afraid to be close to me. I may have been afraid to be close to my dad and I may be afraid of being close to God but if God isn't afraid, then He can win me over. How much I wanted that from my dad.
Father's Day
Father's Day came and went this year without much emotion. It wasn't until 6:30 p.m. on Sunday that I really remembered it was Father's Day. Sure, all day I knew it was Father's Day but then at 6:30, as Rob & I were driving home from a relaxing mini-vacation-weekend-up-North, it dawned on me, it's Father's Day. And I am father-less.
On our way home, we drove through a little town called Ellsworth. Population: 471. It's where my dad grew up. We drove past his school, his swimming hole, the Post Office his parents ran and past the yellow house on a hill where he lived. But the memories I have of Ellsworth aren't of my dad. When I think of Ellsworth, I think of my grandparents. That's why we made the trip to Ellsworth every summer. To visit my grandparents. (my grandma's famous goulash, banana bread and cinnamon buns were added benefits). So Sunday, on Father's Day, I could drive through my dad's hometown and not feel connected to the fact that it was Father's Day and I was driving through my dad's hometown and my dad is dead.
Another Father's Day of not feeling... Four years now. At 6:30 p.m. on Sunday, I remembered it was Father's Day, and for a brief moment, I felt what that meant for me. And this is where I went with it... I thought about the future, when my husband will be a father and how that day will change in meaning for me. And I thought about my father-in-law and how for the last two Father's Day that I've been married to his son, I haven't been able to wish him Happy Father's Day. I can't even talk to him on Father's Day. And that connects me to my grief. That makes me sad. I don't know how to have a father-in-law on Father's Day. That connects me to my grief over my dad because that's something that's going on right now in the present. My dad died over four years ago. But today, I'm in touch with my grief because I'm not able to celebrate my father-in-law on Father's Day. What a loss that is for both of us.
On our way home, we drove through a little town called Ellsworth. Population: 471. It's where my dad grew up. We drove past his school, his swimming hole, the Post Office his parents ran and past the yellow house on a hill where he lived. But the memories I have of Ellsworth aren't of my dad. When I think of Ellsworth, I think of my grandparents. That's why we made the trip to Ellsworth every summer. To visit my grandparents. (my grandma's famous goulash, banana bread and cinnamon buns were added benefits). So Sunday, on Father's Day, I could drive through my dad's hometown and not feel connected to the fact that it was Father's Day and I was driving through my dad's hometown and my dad is dead.
Another Father's Day of not feeling... Four years now. At 6:30 p.m. on Sunday, I remembered it was Father's Day, and for a brief moment, I felt what that meant for me. And this is where I went with it... I thought about the future, when my husband will be a father and how that day will change in meaning for me. And I thought about my father-in-law and how for the last two Father's Day that I've been married to his son, I haven't been able to wish him Happy Father's Day. I can't even talk to him on Father's Day. And that connects me to my grief. That makes me sad. I don't know how to have a father-in-law on Father's Day. That connects me to my grief over my dad because that's something that's going on right now in the present. My dad died over four years ago. But today, I'm in touch with my grief because I'm not able to celebrate my father-in-law on Father's Day. What a loss that is for both of us.
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