November Feelings–2010

Dear Mom,

I try to stay positive like you. My heart is filled with gratitude for all of the gifts and opportunities in my life. Yet today is a gray, drizzly, cold November day and I feel sad. My stomach hurts and I know that it is filled with all of the feelings that I really don’t like, the fears and yearnings that are hard to acknowledge. It seems much easier to shove them down inside, pretending they don’t exist. However, my stomach is telling me another story that I need to hear. On days like these, I wish you could reappear by my side for a few moments so we could sit and talk.

Yesterday I went to the funeral of a friend’s father. Was it a coincidence that it took place exactly thirty years after Dad’s death? I have now lived more years without than with him. I loved Dad deeply and was not ready to lose him. My consolation has always been that he had a peaceful death, quiet and reserved like he was in life. Why should I need to be consoled? Because I was not there. As always, I was far away, busy with my own activities. When we spoke by phone the night before his death, his voice sounded happier and more energetic than I had heard for months. Did that joy come from an inner knowing that soon he would be beyond the suffering and pain that characterized his daily existence?

Dad was always there to support me in my life. He taught me how to write, correcting my homework and editing my research papers. When I was young, he would sit and color with me, then sign his pages with the names of great artists. I quickly learned about Rembrandt and Van Gogh.

Together we backed brownies and went to sporting events or shopping. He would patiently wait for hours while I tried on clothing, and then always take me out to lunch. While you were busy with your work or taking care of someone, he was at home with me.

One thing that will always stand out in my memory was Dad’s sense of humor; his ability to tell a story or a joke made everyone laugh. Every now and then, I find a letter hidden away that he sent me. How many daughters can say that their father faithfully wrote every week, keeping them up to date on the family as well as their high school, college, graduate school and hometown sports teams? How I treasure those letters and always tuck them in their special spot in order to find them another day.

Yesterday at the funeral, I began to cry. Then I heard the voice. Dad whispered, “I am here, Kitten, by your side.” Am I just a child wanting to hear that message? Or do we, as adults, still need to remember that we are supported and held by those on this earth as well as by loved ones from beyond?

Mom, my stomach feels better. Thank you for listening and for allowing me to reveal those feelings, no matter how painful and sad. Please help me to encourage others to share the sorrows along with the joys so that we all may grow in love.

Love,
Helen