just wanted to share

sylviatexas1September 25, 2006

I've been reading this forum, every so often, for a while, not really sure why, since the "big" loss in my life was nearly 20 years ago:

My father died in October of 1987, the day they pulled Baby Jessica out of the well.

I remember seeing the baby emerge from the earth, pulled out on a sort of papoose-like contraption, & thinking how mean the universe was, to show me a new life being saved from the earth just at the time my father was being returned to the earth.

Later, of course, I realized that that's the way it always is & always has been, & that the timing might have been a mercy in disguise: at least I did have it put in front of me that there *is* new life emerging in this world.

Yesterday, my 85-year-old aunt, my father's sister, called & asked me to get some soil added to my father's grave, since it's all sunken in.

I promised her I would.

Then I had to call her back.

I couldn't remember where my father is buried.

As I tried & tried to think of the things that happened during that time, I realized that there's quite a lot that I simply do not remember.

I don't remember the hour-&-a-half drive to my home town, not one bit of it (thank goodness a friend drove me).

I remember looking at him in the casket & telling my other aunt that that was not my father.

She didn't even bat an eye:

she said, "yes, sylvia, that's your daddy. Look at him again."

Thank goodness for my aunts.

I don't remember the funeral, don't remember who spoke, who sang, don't remember driving to the cemetary or going home.

It was a severe blow, & the losses you all post about are severe blows, too, so:

Be kind to yourselves, be patient with yourselves, when you can't function like well-oiled machines after sustaining this kind of loss.

Give your minds/hearts/bodies/souls time to recover, & give yourself the care that you have to have in order to recover.

One other thing that I wanted to share is a dream I had maybe a year later.

In the dream, I was walking with my father through a wild area in a terrible thunderstorm, thunder, lightening, terrible winds, dark sky, rolling clouds, very scary, & I kept begging my father, "give me your hand, or you'll get lost, give me your hand & let me help you."

He finally gave me his hand, & we struggled through the storm.

Then we came to a bridge across a turbulent bayou or bay.

It was a wood & rope bridge, & it was pitching violently in the storm.

I grasped his hand & we started across.

A sudden gust of wind turned the bridge nearly sideways, my hand slipped, I grabbed the rope, & my father went into the water.

I held the rope with both hands & looked into the water, trying to find him, crying & saying I was sorry.

Then he popped to the surface & smiled at me.

He had turned into a sort of human-otter hybrid, and he swam away joyfully.

and I realized that I had to let my father go.

Whatever he was, wherever he was, he was free.

I was the one in the storm, in turbulence.

so I turned to face the wind & make my way across the bridge.

that's what we have to do.

Bless you all.

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Lovely post, Sylviaand what a fabulous dream you had! I truly believe our loved ones' spirits convey messages to us through our dreams, at least those who can. We who receive them are lucky. Your dad's message was dramatic and crystal clear.

Thank you,

    Bookmark   September 25, 2006 at 5:26PM
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There is a lot of wisdom in your post, Sylvia. It reminded me of a small book I read called Bridge of San Luis Rey (Thornton Wilder) about some people in Peru who who fall to their deaths when a bridge breaks. The book has a quote in it which meant a lot to me: "There is a land of the living and a land of the dead and the bridge is love, the only survival, the only meaning."

Thanks for sharing here.

    Bookmark   September 25, 2006 at 10:42PM
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You should be a writer. Even nearly 20 years later, I'm sorry on the loss of your father. Doesn't matter how long ago it was, it's still a loss. I lost my first-born, a son, before birth in 1986, then my only other living child, my 18-year old daughter died with her boyfriend in an auto accident in June 2005. The stress of losing my daughter really messed me up, made me forget things. I called some people two & three times, telling them "the news" of what happend to Erica. I had no memory as to calling them earlier. I was putting ashtrays in the freezer. I was suddenly lost in my own neighborhood. Like you said, be kind to yourselves. Do whatever it takes to cope.
Emma in PA

    Bookmark   September 26, 2006 at 5:48AM
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