My dad was notorious for his lists - taskpads that were posted all over to remind him - to keep him organized - to help him focus. He spent his life taking care of us - making sure things were done - and I have this feeling that he is still doing just that.
It was only moments after my dad breathed his last that things started changing.
I have believed for a long time that he had paid any semblance of a price with all the days of pain and the grace with which he accepted his lot in life - so that when I was time for him to go, I think he went straight there.
Over Father's Day weekend, we took my daughter's boyfriend with us. When we were leaving he told them goodbye and that it was probably the last time they would see him. The boyfriend acted as though this was an important trip for him to accompany us on - and frankly, I thought he was going to ask my dad's permission to marry her. That didn't happen - but Dad seemed to like this guy and we thought he had potential. It was within the first half hour after Dad died that she found out he had been sleeping with an old girlfriend. The coincicence had been lost until we were talking about it last night. I reminded her that my dad had assumed the responsibility to be her guardian from her first days - and that I can't imagine he would give up that role after death. Her face grew pale as she realized that her revelation into who this man really was came moments after Dad was able to see who he really was as well.
That same influence has come over Josh as well - a quiet reassurance - a realization that who he is at 16 is a foundation for the man he will be some day. He was named after his grandfather - and has that same quick wit and intelligence that Dad had. His eulogy was beautiful - and his realization that a man can live a great life without ever getting accolades for it - seems to be shifting his attitude back to the person I have always known.
After the first week we were back, things for Jake have improved dramatically at school. Several issues resolved themselves and he has some buddies to hang out with at lunch. This is a way bigger deal than it looks just typed out.
I find that Mass is more precious - though I don't think I am at a point where I honor my Dad's memory very well yet. I still have moments where I feel sad - where the tears come - where I don't have a good reason behind how I am feeling. I find that I am short tempered with my husband - and that at times I am more inclined to remind my family that they don't have the luxury of falling apart - and that they need to get their stuff together. But I call my mother, I try to keep my family intact and fed and clothed - and I am trying to help those patients I can reach. Guess that is all I can do - but it doesn't seem like much most days.
I was reading today about my friend Dale, and the lady who has entered his life after a long stretch of being alone - not sure if Dad had anything to do with that, but I'd like to think he went to bat for Dale and asked God to cut him some slack - we aren't designed to be alone, you know.
