Saturday, September 17, 2011

Almost Three Years, Daniel

I can almost make it through most days now. Even standing on the edge of what might be an early autumn, significant because this is when I first lost my Dad, and then before I even knew what was happening, lost you suddenly and unexpectedly as well. As you know, I have not been able to return to teaching college. I honestly don't believe that I could stand up there, and go back to what I did when you were still on the Earth. I don't believe that I could stand up there talking about cardiac conduction disorders and the like, knowing that what I described so well, just two weeks before your passing, in my last class before the break, was what is likely to have called you from us. How good could I be at what I do ? I never suspected that you had any kind of a heart rhythm disturbance. I never saw anything.No one did. Almost three years later, I still find the entire thing hard to believe. I wish you had simply been borrowed for your superior intellect and problem solving creativity by a secret governmental agency, or a superior race, leaving us to believe for just a time, that you have passed. Oh how I wish that your "Celebration of Life" (funeral) had been a sham. Yes, I know. You are laughing at me telling me I still watch too much science fiction, and I do. I do it because you are not here to.
I am trying to live and use my life well as both you and my Dad have told me to do in dreams many times, since your passings. Oh, and this week I saw my mom in dreams too, but you likely already know that. I am trying my hand as a radio program host. Your Dad jokes that it should be easy for me because I talk in my sleep, and it should be effortless for me. Yet it's not. It's the acceptance that you are not coming back while I am on Earth, and the acceptance that I must do something to move ahead and earn money, when of course, some days I would rather evaporate and find you. I will do my best with this new venture. Please don't think that because I have a job now that I don't need to hear from you and Dad just as much as I have been. I still need both of you in my life whatever way you find that you can send messages. The support of both of you is invaluable and is priceless. The song below reduces me to the crying little girl I sometimes am. Love you both......wider than the oceans and deeper than all the seas.


  1. I came across your blog quite by accident. I was looking at things about Heterochromia of all things.
    I don't know why, but I was compelled to read quite alot of your blog (both old and new posts). I just wanted to tell you what an amazing woman you seem to be. Your strength of faith in such tragic circumstances is admirable. I have a 7 year old daughter and if I even imagine anything happening to her, I can only imagine myself dissolving into a pile of goo unable to function in any way.
    I am so sorry for the loss of your precious son!
    May God continue to bless you and keep you.

  2. Thank you. I always appreciate the comments received here. I really do appreciate your kind words. Imagine for a moment that the worst happens to someone you love, but you can still feel them there, and you know they are watching you. Then, the challenge becomes being and staying the parent they always knew you as. I believe Daniel knows what's going on, and although I grieve a little almost each day still, I need him to know that I will use my time on Earth wisely, and that my husband and other children will have whatever best parts of me that I can still find. Thank you for posting and very best wishes.


Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.