Learning something new each day

I wrote the following to a friend earlier today...it pretty well sums up where I am right now:

My last couple days have been much much better...as I pray about HOW to deal with everything, the Lord certainly guides me....though it's still not all fun & games, He opens my eyes to see what today's task is & things seem FAR less overwhelming...things are becoming doable again...even desirable. I feel like it's a whole other side of Christ to experience. He doesn't just GIVE us happiness & joy, but when He needs to, He leds us through the pains in front of us, one step at a time, to that happiness & joy. I've always assumed it was a one way or the other type deal, ya know? Like either you have the joy of the Lord, or you don't; and God hands it back to you when you don't. But I don't think that's it. I think He leds us back to it...He walks hand-in-hand with us, each step bringing us closer to our joy....He doesn't just snap His fingers and make us happy again, but He's our no-charge therapist who guides us back there! Each day brings a new task to complete, and each individual day may not seem to be making a difference, but when you see them all strung together, suddenly you see how far back up river Jesus has paddled you. I have a new task or two that my eyes have been opened to...and now they aren't scary like they were a week ago...I might even be looking forward to them.

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The last couple of nights I have made a HUGE dent in my continued and never-ending tasks around the house. That may not seem like a big deal, but considering that I took a 2 week hiadus(sp?) from it b/c I couldn't get motivated, IS a big deal. And I feel sooooooo much better...though there's still HOURS more work to be done.

I promised myself that each time I blogged I would write a scary memory, & a joyful memory of my time with my dad - this is something that I know will help me immensely to move forward & exchange my bad memories, with all the good ones.

So, the yucky one:

After a few days in the hospital & the possibility of my dad having had a heartattack (before we confirmed it), one of the nurses pulled me outside to talk to me. Any time they did this, my heart momentarily stopped. She basically gave me a run down on all the problems facing my dad's body...and there were many of them. She more-or-less told me he didn't have long...days, a couple weeks maybe. I was standing there by myself with this ICU nurse in front of me, and I was completely flabbergasted. This was the 1st of several times when we had this conversation.

I remember feeling helpless...hopeless. But then I couldn't resign to those feelings. I had spent the past year and a half pushing those feelings away and I WOULD do it again...my Daddy WOULD keep fighting, I would keep standing for him. But I walked back into his room & I think he just knew. He furrowed his brow, looked at me, and said. "what is it?" Though I couldn't understand him very well because of his BiPAP mask, so he wrote it out (which was probably harder to understand, lol).

I was at a loss for words. I stumbled over the words and my heart just sank. How the hell do you tell your own father that he's going to die?? How do you tell him when you can't even tell yourself?? And SHOULD I tell him & risk him giving up too soon, or do I respect him & give him all the information I know...something we agreed to do for each other. How do I tell my own Daddy the hardest thing he'll ever have to hear??...and how do I do it without falling apart?

He started asking, "Is it my heart? Is it my kidneys? Is it my blood? What is it?" The look I gave him probably said it all. And right then our nurse walked in. He pointed to his piece of paper with his question, and she answered. She honestly told him what was happening & the prognosis. Daddy nodded, and didn't say anything. I don't remember details after that...it was just too damn hard.

I was standing there the moment my father knew he was going to die.

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But there were many conversations before that one that I will forever treasure.

About a month before Daddy went into the hospital, shortly after I moved home, I ran into his room where he was sitting on his bed watching TV. I needed to talk because my stress levels were to the point of toxicity. I explained to him a situation I was facing with one of my professors who was insisting I take a final exam on schedule despite having signed an agreement to let me complete my assignments as I was able over a 3 month period. This exam fell about 10 days after I moved home & was going to be during the time that Daddy, Tacie, and I were in Houston visiting the MD Anderson cancer center....exams were the LAST thing I needed to worry about.

I was upset, angry even, that I felt such pressure, and for what?? For a deadline?? So that this professor could feel like I was "moving forward" with life, and "succeeding" despite my circumstances?? Because, as he explained it to me on several occasions, the world doesn't stop turning when our parents fall ill?? (he clearly didn't understand that I was a 25-year-old Daddy's girl, and my world WAS stopping)

When I explained all this to my dad he just shook his head. He said, "Honey, you're going to run into academia types throughout your life. In their eyes, the world revolves around dealines, papers, books, and exams. Too often they loose sight of what LIFE really is. You're experiencing real life stuff right now, I wish you didn't have to, but you are. But you have your priorities in line, honey. It's YOUR choice & your life, not his." He went on to tell me he supported me & it was ok with him if I dropped the class. His eyes were so sad as he apologized for "putting" me in this position...but he apologized even more that this professor was pressuring me when he shouldn't.

That memory has stayed with me. My dad SEEMED to be a man of rules at times in my life, but really...that was the complete opposite of him. My Daddy gave me the permission I didn't realize I needed to simply live LIFE...not stick my head in a book in order to make a grade which doesn't ACTUALLY mean jack-squat in the big scheme of things. He taught me one last time in that moment that being a good person is what makes you successful, not achiveing titles or making money....and he loved me unconditionally, no matter what choices I made. As well, we talked about the fact that I'm learning more in my therapy program from my own life, than I am from the books I read...I'm LIVING it, I'm facing, head-on, what many of my future clients will be facing. THAT is education...not a written exam.

That memory is especially important to me now as my life has been turned upside down. I have very big decisions to make in the coming months, decisions which will affect my life for the next few years, and longer. I'm considering taking a break from school until April?, June? for a year? As well, I'm considering moving out to Virginia and transferring programs...something Daddy would've had my hide for! But he would've done so b/c of the time/money involved...and I know, KNOW, in my heart that if he and I had discussed this in the past year, he would've said it's ok...perhaps even encouraged it for various reasons.

I needed that conversation soooooo badly with him, and it's a memory that brings me continued comfort, and healing, nearly everyday.

God gave me an amazing father...I honestly don't think I could've asked for a better Daddy. He wasn't perfect & drove me bonkers sometimes, but that man loved me through EVERYTHING. He supported me through EVERYTHING. He wasn't just my father, but he was truly an angel in my life.

~Jac

Laughing Babies Make the World Go 'Round

OK, this has absolutely nothing to do with anything, but I thought ya'll would appreciate this, if you haven't already seen it - this is becoming an all-time favorite video of mine...turns ANY frown upside-down!!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yE6PNps5N9I

Memory Lane isn't for the Faint at Heart

Yesterday was another bad day. They've been more frequent recently, as have nightmares and insomnia.

I know this will pass. I know that one day I'll wake up and not have to MAKE myself smile. I'll wake up and think about my sweet Daddy and just feel happy with all the wonderful memories I have of him....instead of 2 seconds of happiness followed by bouts of crying.

Last night I had my Griefshare meeting (http://www.griefshare.org/) ...I'm starting to dread and look forward to these. As I mentioned before, one of the hardest things about grief is that it's lonely...it's SO personal that there's not a soul on this earth that can take away the grief. One of the many incredible women I know at Harbor Church - Uptown in San Diego told me last year while my dad was sick that even though she had been married to the love of life for many years, when her Daddy died, her sweet husband just couldn't really comfort her....not to the extent that you would think anyways. At the time I was going through my phase of "I need a man, and I need him NOW...I need someone to protect me and hold me and make me happy even if only for a short time." Her words made it abundantly clear that no man, no person, could take away the loneliness this loss brings.

But Griefshare is different. While I still leave the group with a heay weight on my shoulders, for the time I'm there, I'm not carrying the weight alone. They have boulders strapped to them as well, and they GET it. Being surrounded by others who deeply understand the confusion and intensity of this time somehow makes it easier to bare. They are my little angels. That's what we are for each other. The Lord makes it clear to us all that we are not supposed to "do" life alone. And sometimes, in these yucky seasons of life, He has specific people who He wants us to walk with.

But it's not just my griefshare friends - it's the people who knew and loved my father. I feel like I'm in a strange place with many of my dad's friends and extended-family. It's hard to explain it. We're there for each other...we'll always be. But...I can't help but wonder if it's sometimes just harder to be around each other? I NEED them, I NEED to frequently spend time with people who understand how amazing my dad was & who understand, without any words, what the past year and a half has been like...and what that means for today. But I know that our time together is now changed...and sometimes hard.

I just finished reading through the blog of one of my dad's surrogate daughters. Sandra was one of the girls that my dad could always depend on...and he ALWAYS loved her like one of his own. She's been a big sister to me in many ways...her and Rene have ALWAYS given me hell, gotten me in trouble, kept me outta trouble, given me needed insight, held my hand, cried with me, laughed AT me, and I know they'll always be available to talk. Reading Sandra's blog entries from July, while my dad was in the hospital, his last 24 hours, and the trip we had to take to TN to bury him, was....hard for me.

So much of that time I remember, but it's much like a bad dream...but on one of those nights where you wake up all the time mid-dream and then can't remember what's real and what isn't. So reading her words, her memories, is difficult...it brings it back...and clarifies that my dad isn't just on a long vacation.

He did fall down at 6am in our house (possibly due to a heart attack) and spill coffee everywhere...a stain I can't bare to look at, but I can't bare to get down on my knees and scrub away either. Less than 12 hours later I DID take him to the ER and he was admitted into the ICU. And during the 7 days that followed my father went from needing some fluids & booster shots, to having a terrible case of pneumia, a heart attack, kidney failure, and next-to-no platelets or white blood cells (which meant the pneumia could not be fought off). That DID happen. I DID have to tell them to give the morphine...I DID have my last conversations with him, and I did spend his last night on earth with him in a hospital room. I KNOW these things, some of them I remember far too videly (and I wish I didn't), but....I think they're just now becoming real to me.

I think I need to get these memories out. Forgive me for sharing such sad memories...but I feel like I need to. They're stuck somewhere in my head, but I've been numb to them. They need to come out.

As do allllllll the AMAZING memories with my dad. I'll share those too...gladly.

For instance, I remember last year after my dad started chemo/radiation, I was on edge. I was scared and nervous about what was coming up, and I asked my dad every 5 minutes if he was ok or needed anything. He, in Judge Warner fashion, would just roll his eyes with a little smirk on his face & then bluntly say, "NO. Go do something." One of these days I left him alone for a little while & when I came back in his room he wasn't on his bed where I had left him! I felt an instant of panic, and then I looked over and he was sitting cross-legged on the bathroom floor cleaning out the cabinet!!!!!!!!! OK, if you know my dad AT ALL, you know the man didn't clean out his cabinets. I just stopped & looked at him and said, "Daddy!...what, what are you doing?!" He looked at me like I'd lost my mind and said, "What the hell does it look like I'm doing? I'm fixin' things up a bit." I suggested he shouldn't be doing that and he told me to go mind my own business. :)

I miss my smart-ass of a Daddy. He made some of the best facial expressions of anyone I know...and once you knew him well enough, you knew exactly what each expression meant & could already hear the words that would soon come out of his mouth. I loved that even while Daddy felt horrible, he still had that mischievous look on his face...there were many days he didn't, but many days he did. At the very least, he'd always give me his nose wiggle - that meant I love you &/or it's ok/git 'er dun.

Perhaps the lesson I'm learning today is simply that I have to feel my memories...I couldn't really do that before, now I need to.

So, Lesson #6: Memories must be made real. They aren't just dreams.

~Jac