Tongue in Cheek

The Hard Easy Chair

My Mother,

a little girl,

sits,

in my father's easy chair.

moment by moment

healing in the evening...

Mother's Day

Dear Mom,

My heart is full... more-so it is overflowing. It is heavy with love, tenderness... it aches. I have seen your love, tasted your love, felt your love...love's messages pour from your steady, strong heart with such power that the darkest of nights feel like summertime at noon.

Where would I be without you?

                                                

I wish that I could somehow make these days easier, softer... whole again for you. Your grief, your suffering is a testimony to the greatest love you had. The black you wear, the silence you endure, the distance you put between you and your activities, are symbols of respect for dad. I admire your strength and your weakness, to grieve openly. To hold out your heart and look at its emptiness and not fill it. Mother's Day.... Thank you for being such a good, strong, giving mother even in this time of sorrow.

The Gift of Life

While my father was in the hospital I stayed with my cousins Judy and Chris, since going home to Willows was too far away to be a daily option. Their back bedroom (or as nicknamed, "The Green Room at the Walnut Inn")became my home away from home.

Since I stayed at the hospital at night I slept during the day. Every morning I would come into Judy's home to find my bed turned down, flowers at my bedside, a picture book on my pillow. Later when I would wake up their table would be set charmingly with a home made meal and a glass of red wine waiting for me.

I was spoiled beyond words. Treated like a Royal Princess. I soaked-up every bit of their kindness and was able to hold vigil by my father's heart because I had their faithful foundation underneath me.

All this is to say... Happy Birthday Judy! Thank you for giving me a safe refuge everyday unconditionally.

When was the last time your love helped someone help another? I am amazed each day by the lessons of love I am receiving. Compassion comes from experiencing something first hand, and then being able to share from what you have gained, witnessed and learned to another.

Everyday there are ways to love one another. To give to another. What an extraordinary gift to receive someone's compassionate heart and feel it breath into your own...

My Father's Eulogy

Looking out I see many family and friends... It is such a healing gift to be surrounded by your love for my father. Thank you for coming and showing my family and me that my father holds a special place in your heart.

Your friendship allows us to know that my father will be nearby because of the memories stored within you. Please share them with us…never hold back, not now or in the years to come.

After 90 days at the hospital my mind’s eye and heart were full of my dad’s journey that he bear-ed with such grace.… My dad showed me courage, he showed me that he could endure much pain; he showed me dignity is his suffering.

My father’s death was beautiful… my family gathered around his bedside, prayed, saw him gaze lovingly into our eyes, knowing- trusting he was going to the heart of God, that his family on the other side was waiting for him with arms wide open.

It was a long and brave journey made whole.

I have struggled to find the right words, the right stories, the right note that would speak truly of my father...

But there are simply too many….. Family, faith, Ferndale, farming, fiesta, Westport,  motorcycles …..

Single words that hold a lifetime connecting you, my family... to my dad. He had a rich life… a giving life and life that I admired even to his last breath…

I only hope I can be so strong…that I can be as generous in my love as he was in his abundant love for life and family.

He was a man of faith, and the rosary was never far from his lips.

Our family is the way it is because of my father’s and mother’s faith, their faith in God. It is a legacy of love that cannot be taken even in death. It lends us grace and gives us courage.

My Mother and Father shared a special love story, one that was real, honest, and paved the way for us their children to follow: Before my father died my mother told him: That out of all the beautiful women she was luckiest because he choose her, and that she was so happy to be his wife, and the mother of his children.

Listening to my Mother in that moment sharing with my dad her love… oh how he beamed, his face lit up full of love before starting his journey home.

My mother’s love was sacred to him.

This is what I know to be true….

My father loved unconditionally, it didn’t matter what you did or didn’t do, and it didn’t matter if you where his color or how old you were…. it didn't matter what opinion you held, or if you rode a motorcycle or not….My dad loved and was loved. Who could ask for anything more? What a valuable gift I saw in my father’s attitude.

My brother Marty said, “That dad stopped aging at 60 or maybe 40….he simply did not grow old.” Life was something he enjoyed. And he lived it everyday to the fullest, in style and young at heart.

Every child should have a Father who shows them what love is all about. I could tell you over 81 reasons in a blink of an eye, why my Dad was a gem. How he was a generous man, how he would give you the shirt off his back, his wrangler jeans, boots and helmet too....even if he was standing, stranded outside, in a snowstorm, and you had a snowsuit on. He was loving down to the bare bone.

Every child should have a Father who tells them that the world is a beautiful place, and that they are worthy of it..

Oh Dad how you were so strong, so beautiful so extra cool!

We will see you Dad, yes we will see you in the rice fields as they flood and take root. We will see you in the eyes of your grandchildren and in all those that loved you. We will hear you in the memories that are stored in our hearts and that will be told and retold and remain vibrate for eternity.  We will hear you with each Ninety, Harley, Honda and skid of the bicycle wheel. We will hear you when we turn on the radio and see Mom grabbing one of the grandchildren to teach them to jitterbug in the kitchen.  Oh yes Dad you are here I see you in the eyes of those gathered here, of the many familiar faces, I see you greeting them with your sideways smile and easy laugh.

We will see you as the seasons turn, unfold and render… We have an abundant harvest in your love and you will be missed…

The Rosary

                        

Last night we entered the church early and sat up front. The community came later and sat behind us. The feeling to sit in a large church, silently with others is one that creates my heart to feel connected to something beyond.

Though last night as my family and I sat upfront, I did not know who or if anyone was behind us. It was that quiet, that peaceful, a silent night....

When the priest started to say the rosary the response from behind was incredible. Like a tidal wave of love pouring over us, flooding our hearts, washing us of our sorrow, holding us up...

The beauty of living in a small town and witnessing the lives of many interconnected.

Last night I felt joy! I felt the love my father and mother have planted with years of devotion to their faith, their family, friends and community.

Thank you also blogging community for your tremendous support...

I will read the eulogy today. I have gathered courage and a big splash of support from your holding me up these last few months.

I am doubly lucky and it feels so good.

Swing High

A steady stream of family and friends pour in giving us their hearts to float on...

We pass through these days with memories of my father coming to the surface, we hold each like a treasure from the bottom of the sea, a ripple of joy extends, it is healing.

My five year old niece Molly was on the swing set in the back yard, swinging back and forth giggly cute. Suddenly she looks at me seriously, drags her feet bringing the swing to a stand still... She jumps off, comes up to me and says, "Aunt Coco are you sad that Vo died?" I responded that I was very sad. With that she says, "I think you need a hug."

Her hug was like a sweet life jacket in these days of swelling emotion.

April 29, 2008

My father's mother and father were standing at heaven's gate with their arms outstretched, smiling, calling their son's name, "George George come we have missed you!" Their faces full of light, their hearts bursting with joy! Behind them stood his family who have gone before him: Uncle Daniel, Uncle Elmer, Uncle Jules and Aunt Frannie, Aunt Marie, Aunt Velma, Uncle Harold, Uncle Ed, Uncle Al, Uncle Joe, Uncle Edmund, Uncle John, Baby John, my mother's parents Frances and John, his nieces and nephews Beverly, Michael and Jonathon... and so many others.... smiling, laughing, running towards him.

Then I saw us... Standing by his bed. His eyes memorizing our faces, his heart holding us with a song singing good bye, tenderly.

Oh beautiful life.

Oh beautiful death.

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We stood by his bed through out the night, in prayer, in silence, letting him go.

I had my hand on his heart and felt his last heart beat.

Oh Joy

Oh heaven with your gate wide and welcoming!

Dad, Oh Dad, I saw you as a child running, running into your families welcoming arms!

The Ride: the ups, the downs and the curve at the end of the road.

             

Where does one begin...

My father asked me, "What should I do? What would you do Corey?"

The words that came from my heart ached my mind causing my back to tighten and my legs to wobble.

A decision was taken based on my words.

Had I known life was like this I would have lived it more wildly somewhere along the line. That is not to say that I regret how I have lived, but more-so to say that I have been silly at times not to have jumped and splashed in the puddle- to take advantage of the life I have been given.

My father in the misery of these 87 days in the hospital has shown me that he holds life strongly, preciously in his hands. His will to live astounds me. I would and have given up in far far less of a stressful situation.

When the decision came to either go back into the ICU for more aggressive treatments (that cannot be done in the DCU the section of the hospital that he is presently resting)... My father was asked what he wanted to do.

                                                               

He turned to me and asked, "What should I do? What would you do Corey?"

I told him what I would do, and he nodded acceptingly. Oh God, how my father's asking and accepting willingly my response has haunted me, and yet made me feel the loving trust my father has placed on me.

Photo: All the photos on my blog since February 3rd have been photos I have had on stock. These were of last summer: The Honda 90 Ride.

Example Sheds a Light

My friend Shelley who has ALS knows what it means to fight for her life. She is of sound mind, and though her body is beautiful and young, she cannot move any part of it. Her husband Eric, her rock and her foundation, is her life support here on earth. Caring for her, and making everyday as beautiful as it can be. You have heard the expression live your life as if it is your last day.... Shelley and Eric do just that.

Shelley shows me time and time again that life is what you make it. She faces death every moment, but she does not let it take her breath away in fear. Instead she lives in its shadow and dances with light.

When my days at the hospital are too heavy, when I begin to crack from the pressure, when I feel the unfairness of life and doubt that God could have any hand in any of this, I think of Shelley and Eric. I have never heard them complain, nor utter one word about unfairness. Their example sheds a light on faith, love and hope. Their courage to face death every single day and still live their lives with joy slaps me right back into reality... A reality that life is what you make it.                

My father is ill. I am tired and I miss home. But at the end of the day I look around and can say I have lived it lovingly and I have given it my best... and that makes these sad days worthy of the smile I feel.

Thank you Shelley and Eric for showing me how to live life on the right side of the track.

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Note: Thank you for the loving responses you sent to me yesterday. It is a healing balm to have such prayer and good thoughts surrounding my family and I.

two steps forward, one step back, two steps to the side

As I witness life with my hands tied behind my back and my heart pounding loudly and echoing off the canyon's wall... I am not afraid but wearing thin.

As I listen to the unanswerable question - why, especially as it runs around poking at the festering wound then hides. It causes me to look around and doubt my choices, my response and myself. I find my energy nearing the breaking point.

Then to hear the insensitive suggestion, "Feed him less." It makes me want to throw up, pulls me to a dark corner where I see death as a gift and then shudder at the avenue. Ah the places one will go to when one is desperate.... for a change.

To know the well meaning response, "If there is anything I can do-" as a token of friendship. Knowing there is plenty to do, but most things seem trivial to ask for compared to the real unsolvable thing at hand. It is the lack of control, the letting go, the nodding of the head, the thank you for asking, and realizing that the next moment is not in our control. Friendship is a damn good offer.

The constant watching, thinking, analyzing, directing, deciding, listening, praying and the lack of sleeping...the constant wave, no tidal wave against the empty shore.

Am I tired... yes.

How do I do it... with these words, "Do unto others as you would want them to do unto you."

Is my father getting better? He is 81, his heart is strong, but he is very weak, and slowly recovering and slipping at the same time. As my brother Mathew has said about dad, "He takes two steps forward, one step back, two steps to the side."

The thinking part of me realizes that my father has lived a good life, has reached old age, and that his time has come... but the feeling part of me aches at what I see...

I lied, I am not tired, I am exhausted- as is my father and my mother. I shouldn't complain but that is how it is and there isn't anything to do but to wake up and face the day with grace and courage.