comming home...

i have been home in Ariz. for a few days now...i will be the first to admit i was quite nervous... this is the first time i have been home since my papa passed... i worried about how i would feel being in the house... seeing the sink we spent hours at... seeing his recliner... seeing all of the empty space he left.... while it has been hard it has also been healing.. we have been able to talk about him.. not always accompanied by tears.. we have laughed.. cried.. and shared...
being in his truck was hardest.. it smells like him... like work.. like desert dust...
it doesn't help that my brother in his masochistic style.. insists on listening to dad's music at most times...
i have yet to visit the grave site... more apprehension... not knowing how i will react is the hardest part... odd that reacting is the easiest, most natural thing to do...
i have done very well, considering... and i was thinking about it.. more than likely while i was supposed to be listening to someone...i apologize in advance for being a bit spacey, as i have a lot to contemplate... but i digress... i think i have been able to simply feel because he is very much a part of us.. and the house... i know my dad is in paradise.. more than likely cooking fish over a camp fire... but he is here as well.. in the form of memories... my papa wore hats (ball caps) all the time.. and there is at least one hat in every room.. as if he left them there...
i also believe... as many people remark on how well we are doing as a family.. that it is a testament to my papa.. we were not left with hurt feelings, regrets.. ugly memories... he truly left us in tact with beautiful memories and knowing with all our souls that he loved us...
here is hoping i can remember this when i visit his headstone....

music to our ears...

after the last post i felt i needed to write something less sad.. gotta have balance right?

we did a lot of bed hopping in my family... before my brother was born my mom and i would switch because she couldn't sleep with my dad's snoring.. sometimes it was so loud it vibrated against the walls... i got so used to my dad's snoring that i slept with him for mannnnyyy years.. until my brother took over... poor dad... because my brother has always been a wiggly sleeper....

so last night it was raining on and off... more like pouring and pounding my rooftop on and off... and it made my husband's snoring erratic... i just could not get to sleep.... so as always i go to thinking about my papa...

my brother and i have agreed... it is easier to fall asleep with steady snoring.. he once said my dad's snoring was music to his ears! music.. i don't know about that... but it certainly held its own lullaby... maybe of security... and hilarity

a few years ago my dad and brother came to visit my husband and i.. we rented a cabin up north and spend the weekend there... the cabin had these weird short walls that created an open gap between our rooms... my brother and dad were in one room.. my husband and i were in the other... my dad was the first to fall asleep and started snoring.. my husband.. unaccustomed as my brother i and i were... could not sleep through the snoring.. especially once my brother joined in... i told him to close his eyes and eventually he would fall asleep... moments later i found out neither of us would be sleeping... my dad started laughing... like actually laughing.. there would be a snore with his inhale.. but the exhale was laughter.. and not quiet giggles... real laughter... it was infectious laughter.. because my husband and i could not stop laughing... we came up with dream scenarios that my dad could have been laughing at.. in the morning we told my dad about it.. he didn't believe us... while my brother slept through that night he was familiar with this laughter.. he walked in and said he'd heard it before.... no big deal.. which sent my husband and i into more fits of giggles

years later as my dad became more and more sick we, as a family, started to miss his snoring... one afternoon nap my mom caught him snoring... she told him when he woke up and he was excited... he said "yes, that means i got some goooooood sleep!"

on God.. and faith part II

i am not sure where it comes from... the day will have gone well... i will have gotten through it unscathed... then.. i lay down to fall asleep.... i am sure to tire myself out completely.. so i know i am tired.. i know i should be able to sleep... a little tossing...a little turning.. then a flash.. the memory that sends pain to my core.. the memory of my dad in his last hours... unresponsive but his mouth searching for water... i used the stupid ice chip sponge to put water on his lips and gums but he moved his head... grunting.. he was so thirsty... and i was helpless... i don't know who noticed.. who knew... and i don't share this at all... because even now.. typing it.. so much is going on inside... a whole storm of emotions...... this is the only moment...after all he had already gone through.. when i questioned God.... when i was angry with God for reducing my dad to this... to allow suffering... needlessly..i had done really well until that point in understanding that cancer was not something God gave people.. was not a lesson to be learned.. was just a monster in and of itself... but i asked.. why not just take him now.. why allow him to lay there.. helpless. thirsty... why put us through this?

so my night was spent thinking... and reliving these questions...and sorting out some other stuff...my relationship with God is personal.. and new... i am finding my way through this in the best way i know how... i don't know if i will ever be open to religion.. i see what it does to individuals.. i see people using religion to judge, condemn and justify horrible things... i understand that individuals never represent the whole... but it causes me to be wary of it all the same... but my dad, being new to Christianity... was obviously not new to virtue.. and i think if i can try to emulate his virtues i will find my way....

fellowship without judgement- when my dad had to stop working he would spend much of his time on the front porch reading and watching the neighborhood.. he befriended some Jehovah witness women... even after he began to have fellowship with his church they did not forget about him... one day he was in the shower and i answered the door.. they asked about his well being and left a scripture for him to ponder... when he got out of the shower another person made a snide remark about him talking with them...later he told me that he just wanted to talk about the bible, he didn't care with who...it wasn't a matter of being swayed toward any kind of religion.. it was about gaining understanding in any way....and that i should not judge wrongly like that other person had

honesty- my cousin was reading the bible to him one afternoon.. i suggested they read the story about the 4th man in the fire (my favorite.. plus it's a good johnny cash song).. dad had never heard it... in the story three men are brought to the king for refusing to worship a Babylonian god...they told the king that they did not fear the firey furnace they were to be thrown into because they had faith that God would protect them.. the furnace was so hot that it burned the soldiers who took the three men to the fire... and killed them.. the men came out of the furnace unburned and not even smelling like fire...while the men were in the fire a fourth man was seen (usually inferred to be God)... anyway after the story had been read my cousin asked my papa if he would have that much bravery to stand up to the king and be thrown in the fire... my dad thought a bit.. and said.. no... he would bow to the Babylon god.... he somewhat shocked my cousin, who was also his preacher and pillar of faith.... we laughed... he was honest in his answer... it was not in question of his faith... my dad had a very strong faith in God... it was a question of bravery and fear...

i think my dad's virtues are better followed than any religion.. and while someday maybe i will find my way toward a church and religion.. i will in the mean time work on my personal relationship and understanding of God.. maybe until i have faith enough not to lay awake questioning and reliving an all too painful moment...

6 months

dear papa,

another month has passed.... and nothing has changed.... my world is standing still... i am in a bubble slowly working my way out... i have begun to forgive which i think will help.. and which i think you would like... i wish i had more of your non-judgmental heart in me... it is something i will continue to work on....

we had a bit of a dramatic... albeit hilarious event... in the house... your super smart son-in-law dropped a huge knife on his foot, butt first, and broke his last two toes... he writhed around on the ground yelling and cussing... i threw him a bag of frozen peas and walked out... i couldn't stop giggling... and i was thinking of you and your foot/heel problems... i don't think you ever writhed around on the ground yelling and cussing... i know you went on a two hour hike with us... through the pain... even with chemo and the horrible pains of surgery and ever growing tumors... i don't you ever writhed around on the ground yelling and cussing... i will admit i lost my patience with him... but i can hear you saying "pobrecito".... so i am STILL trying not to compare him to you.. or anyone else to you... cause in that battle.. they will always lose....

speaking of feet... mom and emilio went to California this week.. they are still there... and the other night.. for a fleeting moment.. i did it again.. i forgot you weren't there... i thought.. for just one second... about calling to see how you were getting along with all that walking they did in San Fransisco... again my heart sank... when i remembered yet again... you weren't there...and i wondered when that would stop... but i still do it with Nana and Tata.. so i suppose it won't.. ever stop happening

i think back to last year... at this time.. this day.. i was home with you... we, no doubt, had breakfast together... i can't pinpoint the day.. the actual day.. and i hate that.. i want to remember every moment with you.. but my memory fails in that respect... my brain is too caught up in missing you...

i love you papa,

ana marie