What about Papa
So 5 years ago tomorrow (technically) my Dad died. We all trudged to St. Louis University Hospital after days and days of hoping, hearing from doctors, and finally just waiting to say goodbye. It was a vigil of sorts. Each person taking their time being with him, saying goodbye. He looked like he was sleeping. And then he wasn't anymore.
I guess all this means that it's been 5 years since I started at Weston. This winter will mark 5 years since being in the throws of depression. This spring will be 5 years since I walked back into life. Since then I've fallen in love (maybe more than once), gotten married (only once), and had a baby. Our family has trudged through grief, Iraq, divorces, babies, weddings, break-ups, other griefs, laughter, holidays, and all the things and places that just keep happening despite our shock that it does.
The question I really have for today is how do we continue to make my Dad, my beloved Dad, alive for Junia (and for Sean honestly). How do we shape her imagination to know and love him as a part of who she is and who our family is.
Certainly we will share stories with her, honor this September season with her, do rituals (such as her first bath), and go to Buddy and Papa's (pronounced PawPaw) house among other things.
Once again I ask you, reader, did you have a family member who was present only in spirit? How did your family fail or succeed at honoring this family member? In what way do you continue to love (on some level) that family member now as an adult?
I guess all this means that it's been 5 years since I started at Weston. This winter will mark 5 years since being in the throws of depression. This spring will be 5 years since I walked back into life. Since then I've fallen in love (maybe more than once), gotten married (only once), and had a baby. Our family has trudged through grief, Iraq, divorces, babies, weddings, break-ups, other griefs, laughter, holidays, and all the things and places that just keep happening despite our shock that it does.
The question I really have for today is how do we continue to make my Dad, my beloved Dad, alive for Junia (and for Sean honestly). How do we shape her imagination to know and love him as a part of who she is and who our family is.
Certainly we will share stories with her, honor this September season with her, do rituals (such as her first bath), and go to Buddy and Papa's (pronounced PawPaw) house among other things.
Once again I ask you, reader, did you have a family member who was present only in spirit? How did your family fail or succeed at honoring this family member? In what way do you continue to love (on some level) that family member now as an adult?
My mom had an especially close relationship with her dad-- who only came here to visit them in the United States once. At that time Irene and I were little babies (probably just about Zosia and Lily's age), and, during his extended visit, my mom and him used to go to this lake not far from where we lived at the time, which, incidentally, is not far from where Ben and I now live. My mom took Zosia there for the first time this weekend (the first weekend of fall, which is when her father came to visit), and I can't help but feel that in some way this is her way of building a bond between her beloved father and her beloved granddaughter. I imagine it must be such comfort to her to go to that sand, that held the feet of her father, and build castles with Zosia.
ReplyDeleteI was doing a jigsaw puzzle yesterday with some friends and I kept laughing out loud because I was hearing my Dad's voice in my head, telling me to look at the pieces to see if they fit, don't just jam them together...they should just fit with a tap tap tap...
ReplyDelete...last week I was coloring with little niece Charlie and I kept thinking of coloring with my dad, each of us taking a page and his lovely little crayonstrokes completely neat and tidy, uniform color and not a blip outside the lines, where my scrawling hand couldn't even stay on the page. Coloring with Charlie Ann looked the same. I laughed then too.
Today, my brother called me. We never really talk on the phone, and I mentioned to him that I was just thinking about Dad. He said he was too.
I think those times when the family-mind lines up are the greatest tributes. I also fully intend to teach little Charlie all the games my dad taught me...
My mom died almost 9 years ago. I used to call her just about every day at 5:00pm. "I have a pound of hamburger... what should I make?" "What should I do with this chicken?"
ReplyDeleteNow I don't have her anymore. Just about 5:00pm every day I think of her and call my sister instead. She knows (without my having to say) that I'm thinking of our mom -- missing her, missing her cooking expertise, recipe advice and so much more.
Oh how we miss them when they are gone. Thinking of you, Rachel -- and your dad.