Dad, death, obit


I can be a little dense.

Things can happen I will not react.

Things get said and I have no clue.

Sometimes it just takes a while for me to process things.  To think about them, and to act.

I can be slow.

Yesterday was the 9th anniversary of my dad’s death.  It seems like yesterday, and yet so long ago.   When I think about it, I do not have any memories so crystal clear nor any so vague.  I remember the family gathered around the table when my grandma made the decision to let her son go.  I remember the wrinkles immediately leaving his face as he let go of his last breath.  I remember the chimes playing immediately after the monitors flat lined.  The chimes signifying the birth of Catlin.  I remember all of this things, yet they are all through a haze.

I just recently revisited the memory of sites for Mae’s three little cousins who were killed in a house fire earlier this year, and I started thinking about how we move on.  We mourn, we grieve, we live.

The passing of those we love is not permission to stop and die ourselves.  I believe that we are to go on and live for them.  Live our lives in memory of them, let their strengths and blessings influence everything we do.  Let the joy of the little girls influence how I handle tough situations.  Let their curiosity keep me looking and playing at things in a new way.  To take my dad’s utter joy of life and let it shine through me.  To take his passion for his beliefs and keep arguing and fighting.  To not be afraid, even though we know bad things are going to happen.  To let them happen and use them to learn and to teach.  To enjoy every moment you have with someone.  To savor every love of your life.

We can not be slowed down by the passing of those we love.  We must let those passing push us into new directions, and into new and lovely things.

We must honor their memory by taking them with us, and letting them continue to live through us.


3 thoughts on “Sometimes

  1. kate setzer kamphausen says:

    “The passing of those we love is not permission to stop and die ourselves.”

    Sometimes I wish it was.

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