Sharing dad with my kids

Hey hey hey everybody! 10 years gone. Kai asked me tonight why I can’t tell stories like dad did at night. He was too young to hear or remember one but I have told them all how much I loved dad’s bedtime stories. He goes on and on and on.

Hey Dad
Here we are at another Christmas. Always a bitter sweet time for me to remember and cherish you and to think of the void that is here with you out of reach. To night on Christmas Eve we traditionally spend the evening with Reachel and her family. It is a wonderful time to celebrate family. It is also a treat to see Reachel's still young family delight in the many surprises and treats of the holiday season. A few have been added to the fold since you went off to heaven and I'm certain you would cherish these dear new souls as much as I do. Reachel is doing a great job bringing up children that you would be proud to call your grandchildren. Our kids are nearly grown, Aidan looking at offers and acceptances from colleges and Brynn a few years behind working her way through the first year of high school. Both are taller than me, making me the shortest person in the family. How long you have been gone but how fresh the memory of your passing. I will never forget you and the gifts you've given me. I try to walk them in my life each day to honor them and express appreciation for them. On a smaller note but important for me symbolically, I took out a gift you gave me many years back... a fishing knife and I carved the ham for the families present and thought of you being here with us.
Much love
Rob

Another Christmas so soon?

Hmmm... has it been a year?
I certainly know I have thought of my dear ol Dad many times since last Christmas. I've even thought about getting online and posting to this blog, but I guess I haven't. I think it was last year I was pondering how the decline in frequency of posts may reflect in some way the trajectory of grief. I'm happy that most of my visits to memories of my Dad, while laced with longing and a touch of pain are more than likely these days to be filled with a glimmer of appreciation about the gifts given and retained in that relationship that outlast our time together.

A couple of things I've wanted to share with my Dad are how I've grown in my service to others and something a bit odd about parenting.

First, I have not wanted to boast so much as share some accomplishments that would make you proud. My role as faculty senate president was something that stretched me and that I learned from. It was interesting, rewarding, and I think maybe a stepping stone to doing it better another time. Some of the more interesting aspects were gaining a perspective on how the university is situated in the broader context of society, culture, the nation, and world. Associated with this was developing an appreciation of how such a complex enterprise involves so many intelligent passionate people planning the course of thousands more. I've always had a close personal connection to serving my students and now I have a better appreciation of how planning and policy impacts many others in less direct ways. In the end it still boils down to being of service and being a positive agent of change in the world. I thank you for that example. Though this isn't really the space for it I also thank my Mom. I feel certain that despite the foibles of being a young couple you probably did appreciate that you were kindred spirits in wanting to help others. I guess if you were still about the place Dad, I'd just like to share with you that I'm trying and succeeding to some degree in being a good person - because I think that would make you happy. Your other kids are also doing well. The kids are alright. =)

Second, about kids... well Dad by the time your father passed away you were getting on in years yourself and we no longer had much day to day contact. We didn't really talk much about it. Not about your grief, your regrets, your insights about it, the lessons you may have learned. That can't be said for my kids. You passed away whilst they were young and still in my daily embrace. They saw me grieve immediately in the aftermath of your passing. They continue to see me grieve as the years pass... in limited ways. Is it too limited? Is there a time to share about this process more deeply? I feel there may be an opportunity here. I don't think the time is ripe as yet, but it occurs to me that I can have a number of conversations with them that will prepare them to say good bye to me in the most productive and healthy way possible. I think I've learned things about saying good bye to a parent that I can pass on. I wonder if I do it early enough it may also impact the way we live together also. If you were alive, and if by some odd twist of fate I'd been granted this perspective through some other means, I might have asked you about your process of grieving about your own father and your opinion about the potential benefit sharing that with one's children may be life enriching if not life affirming. I can say that your passing has led me to encourage the kids to interact differently with their other grandfather.

Well before I go... still just managing the silly idea that some how you may appreciate what I think and type... like those dreams I used to have right after you died, that I had the magic cell phone that I could call you on and talk to you even though you were dead. Well...

I just want to say thank you for taking the time when you knew your time was short, to be with me and my children, and to demonstrate yet again that life is for living and giving...
Love and respect.
Robert

"Merry Christmas" were the last words I heard my dear old Dad say...
It is bitter sweet really. On the one hand, the fact that he struggled from death's tight grip, clawing at tubes and mustering some last threads of strength and will to force himself to sit up and swing his legs over the edge of the bed and stand - yes stand for a last time, that was very impressive and a testimony to his strength and grace. He stood there sort of blinking and looking about the darkened hospital room staring, I think, into a host of faces he must of summoned in his mind, but then slowly looking intently to either side of him... into the face of Becky and myself who were supporting him as he tottered on his feet. He looked at us then he stammered out a sweet simple holiday greeting. He was so earnest.  Then seeming much more at peace he relaxed as we settled him back onto his bed. That was about 11:50 Christmas Eve night. I think in his mind he had somehow made it to Christmas. He lay there for another 8 hours or so - his breathing slowing and the strong grip of his hands slowly relaxing until Christmas morning he finally let go of my hand. So on the other hand, well... Christmas will forever mean saying goodbye to a man I never said enough hellos to and who left far sooner than I ever expected.

Merry Christmas Dad
Rest in Peace
Rob

Birthdays don't go away even when you're gone...

Happy Birthday Dad
Miss you...
Trying to walk in your footsteps and maybe even work toward doing it better in my own way. 
I hope we are all doing you proud.
Love you
R

Hey Dad
I am indeed remembering you today, and the proud way you served your country.
I think one of your greatest legacies is inspiring people to embrace the full meaning of service.
Thank you for that gift.
Wishing you were here...
Love, Rob