42 Years Ago ... We were on a camping trip in North Georgia. My Dad had a massive heart attack and died. I was ten (almost) years old. I always take Memorial Day (when I can) and put it aside spending it by myself doing quiet things drawing listening to quiet music ... just ... letting the day ... happen. Not sad. Not ... mourning. Just ... neutral in acceptance with an unavoidable part of life. It took forty years to purge the rage at a thing called 'God' who went around murdering little girls' Daddies and leaving them unprotected with an abusive mother. But the anger is gone now. Today, however I found myself thinking about the family of the woman down the street from Laurie about her children feeling a kind of kinship with them for we had someone we loved with the love of a child taken from us near this particular holiday. I prayed for them lit an incense for them. Then I went across the hall and talked to the woman who all the 'incident' happened with. I brought her some bags of tea and left her with an invitation to come over whenever her apt got scary or she just needed to hang out. I feel better after talking to her and was able to passively listen to her bravadospeak because another time it was me. I wanted to send along positive and comforting thoughts for those today who might be thinking about someone who has passed away and for those who have served in our Armed Forces and paid the Ultimate Price. And for those who have loved them. War is war. Whether across an ocean or in our very living room. In one way or another we are all survivors. Tonight we go to bed we sleep we dream and maybe just maybe - we pay a small visit. And say hello. I have to think that way. I don't believe it can happen. I know it does. Blessings on all our houses this holiday. |
Thanks, Barb. |
Barb, that was absolutely beautiful and so heartfelt. Thank you so much. |
Sounds like some good self care and healing, Barb. |
Thank you for sharing that. I understand the rage at god and have gone through it myself. It is the rage at a god who would allow a little girl to be born defective, to struggle and fight for life for less than seven months and then make her die. But I now have 2 wonderful daughters who I am very close with and 5 grandchildren. And I realize I wouldn't be here if that hadn't happened. Hugs and prayers being sent your way. |
(((((Barb))))) I am glad that you are here Barb. I just wanna hug that little girl who was sad those 42 years ago. Thank you for your post. You give something very special to us here, and to those around you. loving hugs chicory |
(((((((((((barb))))))))))) what a beautiful post... |
Wow, Barb. What a poignant bit of prose, but also a reminder of the power of healing. Thank you for writing this to us. I'm so glad you have come to a good and healthy place for yourself, in your life. It's critically important for the readers of this board to see entries like this, glimpses of where recovery can take a wounded and broken person - to happiness and inner peace. Recovery is not for the faint of heart, but it is out there for anyone willing to do the work. CLMI |
I lost my dad to a heart attack on a sunny day when I was thirteen. I can relate so clearly to your anger. I also take the day of his death each year and try to allow things to filter out. Nice post, Barb, thanks |
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