Prior to joining the club, when you meet members your heart goes out to them, and you pray you never have to experience what they're going through. Every parent lives with the dread, but it's usually tucked away in the psyche and only brought out when misfortune strikes someone you know. You offer your condolences, thank God it's not you going through it, then you eventually bury the dread and move on.
Once you become a member, the dread is not so easily dismissed. If you have other children, you're pretty sure it's not going to happen again from a statistical perspective, but good odds don't translate into peace of mind.
This is only my second Father's Day since the death of my daughter and I can only hope that time will eventually work it's magic and make future Father's Days less painful. Beth was my first thought upon waking, but it was the "Happy Father's Day" greetings from my wife, grandson and daughter that ripped apart my facade. The tears have dried for now, so I seek solace in words to other fathers in the club.
I will be having a chicken barbecue with my Dad this afternoon, children and grandchildren will abound, and Beth will be with us in spirit. It will be an afternoon of whiffle ball in the yard, a little golf on TV (go Tiger), the best darned barbecued chicken, marinated overnight in Dad's special barbecue sauce, and the joy of a family come together.
"This is the bittersweet truth of human life: The path to love is strewn not only with rose petals, but with thorns. By journey’s end you will lose everyone and everything you have ever loved; that is why it takes courage to love anyone in this world. You will seek love in safety until you discover there is no safety in love, and none needed. Only when you are willing to risk the pain and sorrow of loss will you trust enough to open your heart to joy."
Dan Millman
Taking that risk is my wish for all of the club members this Father's Day. Being a good Dad is the single most rewarding thing a man can do in this world, and I wish all of you happiness and joy.
The living need to be our focus while the love of those deceased remains in our hearts forever.
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IN CELEBRATION OF PASSAGE
When an eagle falls, there comes a lengthening silence
As the echoes of a lifelong flight expand,
Growing like the ripples on the stillness of a quiet pond.
They reach out and touch all corners of an existence
That too swiftly burned away.
If we have the perspective of years,
We can mark the passage of life
As images on the opposing mirrors of memory
That fade too soon, and leave us only with
The sense of a rustling in the wind,
The sound of wings.
In that finality that is death, always, there is a continuum.
Throughout their years they made us a part of them.
And they leave for us this legacy: the infinite images
On the mirror that is our mind's eye.
Now we, in turn, will make them a part of us.
We will weave them into the patterns of our wakings and sleeping,
Our loving and our tears.
They will become that contrasting thread that brings light
To the fabric of our lives; that poor cloth that they have left us.
The joy of remembering.
Sorrow fades. Time will mute the singing pain of loss.
Soon the pain of remembering will lose definition
And, with the passing of years, become less distinct.
But their reflections will be a constant presence
Reminding us to listen for that peculiar rustling in the wind...
The rush of wings that signals
The shadow of an eagle against the sky.
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