I'll have a cup of Amazing Grace, please

Friends,

 

There have been a few events,

that have happened,

and I haven't shared with you.

 

Grab a cup of coffee,

and a cozy nook,

and maybe a handkerchief,

because this is going take awhile.

 

 

My sisters and I,

had a weekend together,

 about a month ago,

at my Dad's house,

 to clean out his stuff.

 

I say stuff liberally.

 

Because he had a lot.

 

Storage sheds full,

but that's not the point.

 

The point is,

I am seeing his whole life,

with my new eyes.

 

I am learning forgiveness.

 

 

I will tell you this,

its a strange feeling

to be both

happy and sad,

about the "after death affairs",

that my Sisters' and I,

 are doing on a daily basis.

 

For example,

when I received 

the long over due,

death certificate,

I let out a sigh of relief

and completion.

 

I, (maybe?)

fist bumped the air,

 in front of me,

before even looking at it.

 

Just knowing,

I finally had it in my hands,

felt like progress.

 

The death certificate

 was a very important step,

in our next steps,

and it was finally done!

 

This was a big moment,

that we have been waiting for.

 

Check!

Complete.

Fist bump!

 

Then, I actually read

the death certificate,

and analyzed every word,

and remembered the moment,

I was notified of his death,

and the series of events,

 that happened before and after

 and I got mad.

 

Maybe,

even mad AT

the death certificate,

for being the death certificate.

 

For writing the causes of death.

 

For having Emily's name,

as the family member notified.

 

For having the date of his death.

 

I was mad at this certificate,

for finding a home

 in my important documents.

 

I know better,

than to have an emotional argument,

with a piece of paper,

and yet,

the piece of paper and I,

are in a fight.

 

Let's move on,

 

When I got word,

that his headstone was in place,

I saw the completion
of my Sisters' and my vision.

 

 I saw our hopes and intentions

come to fruition.

I felt content and peaceful

and proud.

 

I feel so glad to have made progress,

on our Dad's To Do list.

Or whatever you might call it.

 

I am confident,

 we are making thoughtful choices,

 and our decisions are right for him.

 

I appreciate the power and influence,

we have,

on his physical resting place,

and all of his after death affairs.

Its like we are taking care of him.

Tender, loving, care of him,

for the first time.

 

 

 I like the finality of things,  

versus things in limbo.

 

It is worth celebrating.

 

I high five my Sisters,

 who do, all the work,

 to make this to happen.

 

 I am so pleased with our efforts,

and the results.

 

And in the next moment,

I am so sad,

that I was ever so happy,

for anything that involves,

my Dad's death.

 

Because ultimately,

I am just so sad.

 

I cry,

on my walks to work,

in the morning.

 

I cry,

on my train rides home,

in the evening.

 

I cry,

before, I fall asleep.

 

I cry,

first thing when I wake up.

 

I cry,

at every,

private opportunity.

 

But, I try,

 not to cry all the effing time.

 

Because this is old news.

and everyone is sick of it,

so I try to keep it to myself.

 

When my dad was alive,

I cried, because 

I didn't think he loved me enough.

 

I think everyone in my,

 life is sick of this story,

me included.

 

And it just keeps going on and on and on.

 

And now the story has some real tragedy and drama, because it is over.

 

I cry,

because,

even with

all the awesome love,

that I have in my life

it does not replace,

the person that I am missing.

 

My Dad.

 

I have more questions for him.

 

I am learning more about him.

 

I want second chance.

 

A rewind.

 

A do over

 because,

if I knew then, what I know now...

 

 

Its simply not in the cards,

 for this to happen.

 

 I feel sad and alone and tragic.

 

I am scared to bore everyone,

 with this same sob story,

when I want to be,

 moving on really gracefully.

 

I have a start.

I now forgive him,

as best I can,

just as he loved me,

as best he could.

 

 I tried very much to forgive him,

in his life.

 

 I am doing, much better,

at forgiveness,

 since he passed.

 

So it is, what it is.

Life is like a box of chocolates.

His, and mine.

 

And this what we got. 

And even if its the chocolate nugget,

 with the strange and messy filling,

that no one really wanted,

I will take it,

and I'll pair it with some really strong

coffee, and the combination

has been delicious.

 

Thanks, Friend,

you're the cream in my coffee!