Life Goes On

"There I am in younger days, star gazing, 

painting picture perfect maps of how my life and love would be

Not counting the unmarked paths of misdirection

My compass, faith in love's perfection
I missed ten million miles of road I should have seen."

 -- Indigo Girls

Tonight I was talking with a friend and found myself sharing the details of the day my father died. It snuck up on me a little, this diving into a memory so sacred and sad.

My dad was one of the finest people I've ever had the pleasure to know. To be breezy about it, I thank my mom a lot for choosing him as my father. To be more authentically deep, I must have done something really special in a former life to have been blessed with this person as my caregiver. As if God rewarded my past life behavior with not only a blue ribbon, but also a championship trophy and a full-ride scholarship to the world's best university.

He really was that great. Ask anyone who knew him.

I vividly remember that April morning, waking up to a phone call from my sister, "You have to come. Get here now." I was in San Francisco, my father was lying in a hospital in Seattle. I moved mechanically around my room, packing inadequately for what I knew was going to be a bring-you-to-your-knees, change-everything kind of day.

I held my breath. I hit Pause. I floated through that journey to the airport, on the plane, and landed in Seattle greeted by two sisters, eyes red-rimmed with the enormity of it all. This necessary loss that was supposed to happen when he's 98 and we're all grown and settled and secure with families of our own. And after he saw us all married, walked us down the aisle to our grooms. After he met all our children. After all that. Not now, not yet.

Life does not take orders.

I survived my father's death. I continue. Someone, or some thing, un-Paused my life and it kept moving. It keeps moving. I did get married, walked down the aisle by my father's brother into the arms of my father's father who presented me to my darling groom. I have children of my own. One is named for my father.

But...would I have my life today if my father hadn't have died when he died in the way he died?

If I am to be truly in love with my life today, and I am, then I must love and embrace all that came before. For this is the path that led me here.

And here looks pretty damn good:

Smiley

Turbo