Day 3203 – Day 3398
Monday morning, I was having a lot of thoughts. By the time I got any of them formed into words and typed here, it was Wednesday of the following week. I don’t know where the month of November has gone. To be honest, I don’t know where the last two years have gone. I pretty much stopped writing or producing videos or putting anything out there when my sister died. She died unexpectedly in August, 2021. Her cancer was incurable but I never heard the word “terminal.’ I think I knew she was sick in June and we all met up for what we did not know would be the last time, on Father’s Day. The pandemic was still going strong so we sat outside. I remember her saying that she wanted to make sure to be there for Father’s Day because, at 90, it might be my father’s last Father’s Day. Having recently been told that she had incurable cancer, I thought – it might be her last Father’s Day, too. I think I told myself so that I could start to get used to the idea that she was ill. I certainly didn’t expect her to be gone in less than 2 months.
When my mother had this same cancer, it took her years of lonely suffering to finally let go. Hers was a long and lingering death and I was too young to realize what was happening. Or, perhaps I was simply just well clothed in the family tartan: denial.
My father passed away this year at the age of 92. He worked until the day before going into emergency for a lingering infection. He died within a month in a way that managed to be both quick and lingering. I think after the first week in hospital I started to realize that perhaps he might not be strong enough to get well again. I gave everything I could to bear witness to the most important moment of his life and help him in the hardest thing any of us will ever do. It was imperfect and I wish I had done a few things differently. I talked him through some of the highlights of his life, as he was in hospital, but it was only after he passed that his wife gave me back the gift I had orchestrated for his 88th birthday – a jar full of notes from his children, wife and grandchildren – 88 things we loved about him. Had I remembered that it existed, I would have read to him from the jar of tiny love letters to send him on his way.
But we can’t do things perfectly. We do the best we can. I’m grateful for the prayer support of my worldwide network of spiritual warriors and healers who helped him, and who helped me through that difficult transition. I’m grateful that I could sense his resistance to be healed and to know where it was going, before it did. I’m grateful for my awareness and my ability to be there for him and to say the things that needed to be said. When you come down to it, there are only a few things to be said – I love you, I’m sorry, I forgive you, I hope you will forgive me, and its okay to go.
I stopped writing when I lost my sister. I did not want to be public in my grief. On top of that, I picked up a stalker who watches and judges everything I post and has made trouble for me and continues to try to do so. It’s been difficult to want to come back here but I know that there are people who still hit up my website – sometimes for the first time. Perhaps my journey can help them. And likely, returning to publicly documenting my gratefulness will be good for me.
This was a hard 650-ish words, but I’m back. I hope you’ll keep reading.
For what are you most grateful, today?