I reached the same age as my father was when he died just two weeks ago now. He was very young it seems to me, I was first year University. He involuntarily missed out on so many events of his children's lives, but that is how it is sometimes. We are a crazy bunch of animals, us humans, but I think wildebeest have it worse.
Thank you for sharing this, Jon. I am so sorry that your father died so young and missed so much. I suppose in the end it is about the good memories we keep.
Yes indeed. Played bass for the first time in ages yesterday, by the way, with my friend who hasn't played piano for ages himself, he's been bereft by his younger brother dying - it's not just dads! We played Panonica by Thelonius Monk, one of the most subversive manipulators of rhythm there has ever been.
My neighbor Charlie died a few hours ago. I have been taking care of him for more than 3 years, he was 96. Such an honor to know him, and he leaves an indelible mark on my soul. My own father died six months ago in my arms at 98. Both men told me I could "do anything" and I believed them. The greatest gift is unconditional love; it's priceless, both to give and receive.
Tanya, while your soul gently weeps over your father - you write this poignant tribute - turning darkness to light. The triumph of that seemingly insurmountable transformation leaves me awed and humbled. You have achieved the most challenging alchemy possible, like a diamond formed under duress into perfect clarity. The effort it must have taken you to accomplish this is very inspiring. Thank you for writing this letter.
I am so sorry for your loss, Desert Jewel, and also so happy for our for these experiences and having been able to be there for the last part of the journey of these two apparently incredible people. Unconditional love is definitely the greatest gift to give and receive...
Hippo knows the secret of contentment. It's a shame we can't interview him! What a horrific set of circumstances that must have led to your father acting as he did. The old saying of "hurt people hurt people" comes to mind and you wonder what had happened to him that caused him to act in such an evil way. Is it something to do with him being raised in those pre-war and war years?
I have been thinking about how traumatic this whole story has been for you and your family and part of the problem is taking it personally ie we think it is something to do with us. In situations like this we can't take it personally because it is always to do with the other person's journey but nonetheless it is extremely hurtful. Thanks for sharing the story and the challenges. We all have situations like this in our lives to less or more degrees and we need to find our own sure foundations and contentment - like Hippo!
Thank you so much, Reuben, your words are so true and bring comfort. I know that it had very little to do with me or the family, albeit it always takes two to tango. I am sure in my fathers perception - which was his truth - we betrayed him. Perhaps we could have done better and I will hold on to the good memory.
I reached the same age as my father was when he died just two weeks ago now. He was very young it seems to me, I was first year University. He involuntarily missed out on so many events of his children's lives, but that is how it is sometimes. We are a crazy bunch of animals, us humans, but I think wildebeest have it worse.
Thank you for sharing this, Jon. I am so sorry that your father died so young and missed so much. I suppose in the end it is about the good memories we keep.
Yes indeed. Played bass for the first time in ages yesterday, by the way, with my friend who hasn't played piano for ages himself, he's been bereft by his younger brother dying - it's not just dads! We played Panonica by Thelonius Monk, one of the most subversive manipulators of rhythm there has ever been.
My neighbor Charlie died a few hours ago. I have been taking care of him for more than 3 years, he was 96. Such an honor to know him, and he leaves an indelible mark on my soul. My own father died six months ago in my arms at 98. Both men told me I could "do anything" and I believed them. The greatest gift is unconditional love; it's priceless, both to give and receive.
Tanya, while your soul gently weeps over your father - you write this poignant tribute - turning darkness to light. The triumph of that seemingly insurmountable transformation leaves me awed and humbled. You have achieved the most challenging alchemy possible, like a diamond formed under duress into perfect clarity. The effort it must have taken you to accomplish this is very inspiring. Thank you for writing this letter.
I am so sorry for your loss, Desert Jewel, and also so happy for our for these experiences and having been able to be there for the last part of the journey of these two apparently incredible people. Unconditional love is definitely the greatest gift to give and receive...
Thank you from my heart for your support...
Hippo knows the secret of contentment. It's a shame we can't interview him! What a horrific set of circumstances that must have led to your father acting as he did. The old saying of "hurt people hurt people" comes to mind and you wonder what had happened to him that caused him to act in such an evil way. Is it something to do with him being raised in those pre-war and war years?
I have been thinking about how traumatic this whole story has been for you and your family and part of the problem is taking it personally ie we think it is something to do with us. In situations like this we can't take it personally because it is always to do with the other person's journey but nonetheless it is extremely hurtful. Thanks for sharing the story and the challenges. We all have situations like this in our lives to less or more degrees and we need to find our own sure foundations and contentment - like Hippo!
Thank you so much, Reuben, your words are so true and bring comfort. I know that it had very little to do with me or the family, albeit it always takes two to tango. I am sure in my fathers perception - which was his truth - we betrayed him. Perhaps we could have done better and I will hold on to the good memory.
I‘m very sorry to hear all this. Your father sounds a bit like King Lear without a Cordelia for redemption.