In Memory

Today is the ten year anniversary of my Dad's passing.

 

It's been a Dad Day..all day long. I'm posting my thoughts...and musings.

 

 

Slipstreamin

 

 

Caught

in the slipstream of time

no chance

to step aside

to stand still

to race back

and embrace a moment.

 

Building roads

and bridges

to tomorrow

 

For

my footsteps behind

fade away

and disappear.

 

There's no road back

No bridges

to yesterday

 

where

my father awaits

with arms flung wide

head thrown back

in endless laughter.

 

Caught

in the slipstream of time

 

facing that road

before me

 

Empty

for all time

of moments and memories of Dad

 

Never Made.

 

____________

 

Moments

 

Sometimes

I find myself reaching

arm outstretched - to the telephone

Then held

frozen in time

realizing

 

And the arm falls slowly

to my side.

 

Feeling within

that clutch

that flip flop

of buried sorrow

 

The long slow sigh

soflty slips

and I turn away

from the telephone.

 

No lifelines left

to reach you

there are no roads

to yesterday.

 

Sometimes

looking out upon the world

warmly embracing

the chuckle within

bubbles

 

And I find myself savoring

smiling in anticipation

tales to tell you

 

Then held

frozen in time

realizing

 

Emptiness engulfing

and the smile

soflty slips.

 

No moments await

regaling revelry

 

Our tomorrows

have all been stolen

 

Sometimes

I find myself - wondering

making mental notes

musing

filing away - I'll ask you later

 

Then held

frozen in time

realizing

 

And the mental notes

softly slip

to the floor.

 

there are no answers

only mysteries

and Silence Befallen

for all time.

 

Sometimes

I am met with

the quiet query

the gentle voice asking

"do you miss --?"

 

And I find myself - falling

into the chasm

the endless foreverness

of loss

and lost

 

and my world

 

softly slips.

 

 

------

 

Eternity

 

 

Perched upon

a low stone wall

the pigeons strut and dance

before me

the buildings rear

and rise

 

People pass

skirts flapping

in the faint city breeze

 

Beneath the bones

in my face

I quell the pressure - rising

 

as I think of you.

 

So long gone

so sorely missed

 

Oh Dad!

Oh Dad

 

How I miss you.

 

There are moments

I am yet felled

with the ache

longing

hunger

to simply see your face.

 

Oh God

How I miss your laugh

 

There are moments -

I still need you.

 

Today, and yesterday

and tomorrow.

 

Solace, comfort

and that coming home feeling

 

that warm glow

of peace - belonging

 

and the joy

of being your daughter.

 

Oh - how I miss you.

today

tomorrow

eternity

 

And yet-

still today-

I could rail

screaming in futile anguish

against that headstone

of hopelessness

 

I am

undone.

 

But it's really rather useless

isn't it?

 

So once again

I reach out to you

and cast a long look back

 

I hold your smile

I embrace your laugh

 

Lift my eyes to

the buildings

rising in symphony

about me

 

and simply love you

for

 

Eternity

 

For my dearest Dad

so long gone

these ten years.

 

Love forever,

 

"Number 2"

 

http://community.webshots.com/photo/441367338/442912748KLjTEl

OMG this is going to sound horerible but you just reminded me that I missed the second anniversary of my own father's passing (not a nice memory)

 

Beautiful tribute

Sorry for his passing...God Bless in all to come and all who has passed.

Skate my thoughts are with you.

 

I couldnt imagine my parents passing on....no matter how much they drive me crazy

 

 

 

With that i hope you had a great day of reflection and rememberance.

 

Cheers to you and to your memories......may they be happy ones and make you stronger

 

 

Peace.........

All of our thoughts are with you, and we are all sorry for your loss.

 

I wanted to give you some rep for your beautiful poems, but I have to spread it some first..

It is a beautiful, insightful poem, Skategreen.

 

I lost my dad at the age of 22. I still feel his prescence at times, and ask for advice. I might be mad, but I hear his replies.

Skate that was beautiful.I bet your dad was a great guy and hope his memory gives you inner peace.

 

I don't know how I would survive if I lost my parents.

My dad is going blind and my mum has a serious case of arthritis,but I still feel blessed that they are here with me.

Wow. If you can move me, (resident bitch) you're good. That was very touching. I'm not good at this sort of thing, but I'm very sorry for your loss. It's always the good ones who die, or lose the ones they love. Lucky for my I AM a bitch, so my family's safe. All the best to you.

Thank you.

 

Thank you, each and every one of you, for responding in such thoughtful ways.

 

I'm glad I posted my thoughts/musings/poems. Thank you for having this board and a place for me to send my thoughts out to.

 

I like these boards, for the rants, the debates, the ways the threads get the mental juices flowing - I like seeing how you all think, argue, bitch - and make me think, argue and bitch in return.

 

I'm also enjoying the games (special nod to Builder here, for his vocab game)

and bio pics...snippets of your lives.

 

But today I'm especially glad I joined up, - thankful for the outlet, thankful for a place to share and celebrate my Dad.

 

I don't mope and hang my head in constant misery, missing him. He was too much of a "helluva guy" - he makes me smile way too much, for that! Here and there, I do miss him so much I could fly apart in a million pieces - but mostly I just love remembering him, and telling the story of him.

 

He left a lot of stories behind, and in a story tellin family, well that's about the most you'd ask for, isn't it?

 

You're peaches. Peaches-n-cream.

Skate, I feel for you. In the summer of 1999 my Father had a heart attack and about the time he came out of surgery from a triple bypass surgery my Mother had a heart attack. I remember sitting stunned in ER waiting for information on my Mom so I could go and sit with my Dad in ICU waiting/hoping he would come out of the anesthesia and talk to me.

My Dad passed away 2 months after he had his heart attack and my Mom recovered.

I have had a different reaction then you, I do my best to forget. The next year I made sure I was out of the country, I could'nt think about it. I still have a hard time thinking about it and its 6 years later.

I am not the poet you are but I did find this poem that told how I feel about my Fathers passing.

 

Funeral Blues

by W. H. Auden

 

 

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,

Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,

Silence the pianos and with muffled drum

Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

 

 

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead

Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead.

Put crepe bows round the white necks of public doves,

 

 

Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West.

My working week and my Sunday rest,

My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;

I thought that love would last forever; I was wrong.

 

 

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;

Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;

Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;

For nothing now can ever come to any good.

Skate, I feel for you. In the summer of 1999 my Father had a heart attack and about the time he came out of surgery from a triple bypass surgery my Mother had a heart attack. I remember sitting stunned in ER waiting for information on my Mom so I could go and sit with my Dad in ICU waiting/hoping he would come out of the anesthesia and talk to me.

My Dad passed away 2 months after he had his heart attack and my Mom recovered.

I have had a different reaction then you, I do my best to forget. The next year I made sure I was out of the country, I could'nt think about it. I still have a hard time thinking about it and its 6 years later.

I am not the poet you are but I did find this poem that told how I feel about my Fathers passing.

 

Funeral Blues

by W. H. Auden

 

 

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,

Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,

Silence the pianos and with muffled drum

Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

 

 

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead

Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead.

Put crepe bows round the white necks of public doves,

 

 

Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West.

My working week and my Sunday rest,

My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;

I thought that love would last forever; I was wrong.

 

 

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;

Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;

Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;

For nothing now can ever come to any good.

 

 

Good Lord.

Good Lord.

 

This has always been a favorite poem. Thank you so much for posting it. It is completely appropriate.

 

and

 

I do understand.

 

Man, that day you had - just about the worst kind of day served up. I am sorry you had that day. I'm glad your Mum survived. It's just the worst kind of bitch isn't it? When they're just bloody well gone. They're just SO gone.

 

I try to stay out of the ultimate "I HATE THIS" screaming within - insanity of it. I realllllly create on, "Gawd!!! What a GUY!! How Lucky I WAS!!" ... and tell stories....course.. I've read, "PollyAnna" about 15 times. It may partially be the basis of my religion!

 

Thank You.

Thank you, oh Kindred spirit, for posting that lovely poem.

I heard it in 4 weddings and a funeral and remembered it, I did some searching on the internet and found it. It brings me to tears everytime.

It so described how I felt.

My Father was the one person in this world who I really felt close to and for him to die really rocked my world. When I would sit down to eat I would think I had no right to enjoy this because he would never enjoy a meal again, terrible thoughts like that.

My doctor gave me medication, to get through the week that was the funeral and all the other things involved, if it weren't for that I think I might have just sat down on the floor and rocked back and forth.

Hey...how are your doing on it now?

gives a hug

I do pretty well, I do my best to NOT think about it all. I miss my Father of course. My daughter was very attached to him and I felt I was getting to know him in a new way, watching being a Grandfather to her. They enjoyed each other so much.

I no longer live in the area where my family lives and I think that makes it alot easier for me to put it behind me. When I was still there, I used to think I saw him, when of course it was just someone who looked like him, in that split second I would forget he was dead. When he was alive it was no unusual for me to run into him while I was out running errands.

I do my best to suck it up. I feel like it must not be normal to still be this affected by a persons death but I don't know how to put it out of my mind. I have not been back to the cymetary since the day of his funeral. I can't bring myself to go. My brother tells me that he has had the cement edging cleaned up and landscaped the area. My family has a little spot where 4 of the family are buried, one place for my Mom and another beside her. My daughter is named after my parents first child who would be nearly 60 by now. She died of Luekemia at a time when there was no treatment when she was 4 years old. She is buried at my Fathers feet. While I knew she was there, it was very strange to see a grave stone with my daughters same name on it. I had my daughter when I was single so she carries my maiden name.

I often feel he is still with me. I dream often of life situations where my Father is still there. I think those dreams are that way because he really is still here. My Grandmother is with him as well.

Loosing my Father forced me to become more self sufficient. I was Daddy's little girl, he took care of everything for me, with him gone, I had to deal with life on my own. Its been an amazing experience. I often wonder what he is thinking looking down.

Thanks for the sympathy, its nice to talk with people who understand. However I feel badly for those of you who have had this happen. My parents were 45 when they adopted me. I lost them earlier then most people will because people are usually younger when they have their kids. Enjoy them while you have them. I know this sounds trite but once they are gone, its too late.

I do pretty well, I do my best to NOT think about it all. I miss my Father of course. My daughter was very attached to him and I felt I was getting to know him in a new way, watching being a Grandfather to her. They enjoyed each other so much.

I no longer live in the area where my family lives and I think that makes it alot easier for me to put it behind me. When I was still there, I used to think I saw him, when of course it was just someone who looked like him, in that split second I would forget he was dead. When he was alive it was no unusual for me to run into him while I was out running errands.

I do my best to suck it up. I feel like it must not be normal to still be this affected by a persons death but I don't know how to put it out of my mind. I have not been back to the cymetary since the day of his funeral. I can't bring myself to go. My brother tells me that he has had the cement edging cleaned up and landscaped the area. My family has a little spot where 4 of the family are buried, one place for my Mom and another beside her. My daughter is named after my parents first child who would be nearly 60 by now. She died of Luekemia at a time when there was no treatment when she was 4 years old. She is buried at my Fathers feet. While I knew she was there, it was very strange to see a grave stone with my daughters same name on it. I had my daughter when I was single so she carries my maiden name.

I often feel he is still with me. I dream often of life situations where my Father is still there. I think those dreams are that way because he really is still here. My Grandmother is with him as well.

Loosing my Father forced me to become more self sufficient. I was Daddy's little girl, he took care of everything for me, with him gone, I had to deal with life on my own. Its been an amazing experience. I often wonder what he is thinking looking down.

Thanks for the sympathy, its nice to talk with people who understand. However I feel badly for those of you who have had this happen. My parents were 45 when they adopted me. I lost them earlier then most people will because people are usually younger when they have their kids. Enjoy them while you have them. I know this sounds trite but once they are gone, its too late.

I am sorry for both your losses. It is a terrible thing and I don't know WHAT I would do if my Dad passed. Or my mum. But you both sound like strong individuals and I hope someday it gets easier for you.

I do pretty well, I do my best to NOT think about it all. I miss my Father of course. My daughter was very attached to him and I felt I was getting to know him in a new way, watching being a Grandfather to her. They enjoyed each other so much.

I no longer live in the area where my family lives and I think that makes it alot easier for me to put it behind me. When I was still there, I used to think I saw him, when of course it was just someone who looked like him, in that split second I would forget he was dead. When he was alive it was no unusual for me to run into him while I was out running errands.

I do my best to suck it up. I feel like it must not be normal to still be this affected by a persons death but I don't know how to put it out of my mind. I have not been back to the cymetary since the day of his funeral. I can't bring myself to go. My brother tells me that he has had the cement edging cleaned up and landscaped the area. My family has a little spot where 4 of the family are buried, one place for my Mom and another beside her. My daughter is named after my parents first child who would be nearly 60 by now. She died of Luekemia at a time when there was no treatment when she was 4 years old. She is buried at my Fathers feet. While I knew she was there, it was very strange to see a grave stone with my daughters same name on it. I had my daughter when I was single so she carries my maiden name.

I often feel he is still with me. I dream often of life situations where my Father is still there. I think those dreams are that way because he really is still here. My Grandmother is with him as well.

Loosing my Father forced me to become more self sufficient. I was Daddy's little girl, he took care of everything for me, with him gone, I had to deal with life on my own. Its been an amazing experience. I often wonder what he is thinking looking down.

Thanks for the sympathy, its nice to talk with people who understand. However I feel badly for those of you who have had this happen. My parents were 45 when they adopted me. I lost them earlier then most people will because people are usually younger when they have their kids. Enjoy them while you have them. I know this sounds trite but once they are gone, its too late.

 

Do you know something? Your post of your love for your father feels GOOD. There's so much rightness there - it's so much better to hear, "yes, I miss my father so much I could puke at times" ...as opposed to anger, indifference, or a total inability to express any emotion about it. It doesn't sound like you're simply a basket case 6 years later....I don't think there is a "normal". I think if we had a good relationship and loved the person - be it a parent, aunt, friend...or even co-worker - we're going to miss them - period. There will be those times when we can miss them a LOT. It can hurt all over again, just because, "this is time they should be here, for THIS, right now!"

 

I've had the dreams...still..once in awhile...they're alive...and we're having a good time - you wake up...and it's devastating. But then I just really look at it, and reach out and grab all the good, and go wash my face...brush my teeth.

 

I do think of my folks, a lot. I tell stories about them, and really enjoy the memories of having them. But I have those moments of just being pissed off at life or come a little undone, missing them.

 

Almost 2 years ago..(8 years after Dad's passing) ...I was working on a special project for work, and speaking with many people on the phone. I had a short comm with a man, and he told me his name - "Jack Fisher" ... it hit me like fricken cement truck. The call was over, I hung up, and sat there and cried hard for an hour or more. I was shocked at the effect. The man had my father's name, and it was my undoing for the rest of the day. I cried off and on all day. Hard. ....no one else...should have his name. Ever. That one surprises me.

 

I don't say this for sympathy, but more, to share a sympathy - a "kinship" of feeling. If, 20 years after their passing.. ... a man passes by in your Dad's favorite shirt, and you're a wreck for the rest of the day...

to me

it simply means...

We loved them. We loved them then, and we love them today and forever. We get on with it, but it doesn't mean we don't miss them. Ever.

 

If I were to awaken

to a knockin at my door

and I could choose

the one before it

the ocean to my shore......

I know exactly what your saying, that would have blown me right out of the water.

My brother and nephew have the same name as my Dad but no one calls them the same thing that my Dad was called so its easier.

I often wonder what my Dad would think of my life now, I wish he had lived long enough to see the big changes I have made.

When my Dad died in 1999, things started happening that I was glad he didn't see, like 9-11 and now this in New Orleans. My Father was a minister and very compassionate for human suffering. He would have been so hurt to see all those people hurting they way they have been.

For a long time I had dreams about my Father and would wake up thinking he was alive and then be dropped to the bottom when I realized he was dead. Now its like he's dead in my dreams but he is still there in them, playing the steadying roll he did in life. My Father was the peace maker, he held things together in my family and our lives. Now that he is gone, things are not as orderly as they once were. My Family is divided in a way that would really hurt my Father if he were alive.

I do have something here at my home that reminds me of my Father. I have his cowboy boots. Our family is from Texas and my Dad used to wear these boots when he was dressed nicely, they have the nice pointed toe etc. I have them standing near the front door, like he has just walked in and left them standing there and at any minute will be back to claim them. Strange I know.

I do have something here at my home that reminds me of my Father. I have his cowboy boots. Our family is from Texas and my Dad used to wear these boots when he was dressed nicely, they have the nice pointed toe etc. I have them standing near the front door, like he has just walked in and left them standing there and at any minute will be back to claim them. Strange I know.

 

 

Oh man! This is killer!

 

That is so damn cool.

 

I would do that in a heart beat. That's...so cool!

 

Ok, confession time....I did...save a set of Dad's clothes. I saved the whole she-bang, ...when Mum asked us to handle Dad's stuff...I sneaked a pair of his boots, his boxers, sox, tee-shirt...and a SANDBOX SUIT!!!! (god, I'm loving this memory!) ... Dad wore coveralls when he was out fixin his truck, choppin wood...or doing stuff in the yard. He called it his "Sandbox suit". I kept other things...a couple shirts - two that I wear sometimes - others..just to keep. I also have a few other things about my house, that are "sheer Dad".

I'm gonna get those boots out... yep. That's a great idea!!!!!

 

 

I know EXACTLY what you mean about wondering what they would think. This is where it gets into the times of "I wish they were around so I could tell them" or ..."I need them here for..."

 

I get those days where it's a "home day". A day where I just feel the need to go home...just to be there. Before, when those days hit, I'd hop in the car and make the 30 min. drive back home... now...oh..you just sigh, don't you? And...yes...family glue gets dissolved. It's all different, and it's different in the way I predicted..and wish it wasn't so.

 

It's like when Granny died. We all knew, it was the last time we'd all get together like that (103 direct blood kids/grandkids/great grandkids at the time of her passing) (that's without the spouses) ... things... change.

 

But I do my best to stay in touch with the best ones.

 

Your Dad sounds great. I bet he would have been able to handle today's world, and would have done much to help others.

I grew up always wearing an ancient old blue wind breaker that my dad forgot when he left. It fell apart entirely after highschool and since he died I wish I had saved it anyway. My sister took al my dad and grandfather's stuff and offered me a golf shirt from his latest business (not even one of his) I have a few things of his that I will NEVER give up though, including a childs table and chairs that I know happily watch my daughter use every day. (I do wish I had something of him as an adult besides a pill bix of ashes. I want to dump them into the ocean for him but the damn box is glues tight with industrial indiscructable glue. IT SUX ASS) The only thing that helps is knowing that I had made my piece with the man I knew as my father years ago (we wer not exactly close) and the man that died two years ago was far from the man I knew as "Daddy" I grew up mourning him. Still, I miss what could have been between us.

I grew up always wearing an ancient old blue wind breaker that my dad forgot when he left. It fell apart entirely after highschool and since he died I wish I had saved it anyway. My sister took al my dad and grandfather's stuff and offered me a golf shirt from his latest business (not even one of his) I have a few things of his that I will NEVER give up though, including a childs table and chairs that I know happily watch my daughter use every day. (I do wish I had something of him as an adult besides a pill bix of ashes. I want to dump them into the ocean for him but the damn box is glues tight with industrial indiscructable glue. IT SUX ASS) The only thing that helps is knowing that I had made my piece with the man I knew as my father years ago (we wer not exactly close) and the man that died two years ago was far from the man I knew as "Daddy" I grew up mourning him. Still, I miss what could have been between us.

 

In my hippie-dippie days - age 13..I wore Dad's old army jacket - and embroidered it with peace signs and what-not..Dad got such a kick out of me wearing that, "you LIKE that old thing?? chuckle chuckle". I wish I'd kept it. Ratsratsrats!!!! I know what you mean...I wish you still had the windbreaker... I'd like you to have things of his to wear.

 

We have the high chair that we all used as babies, (photos of me in it!) ..and the 3 grandkids used it...and now it's waiting in an attic for the next wave!

 

A "pill box" of ashes? Where'd the rest go? I thought I was the only weird one who split ashes. I split up Mum's...right there on her kitchen table. Split them in 3...and then dumped 1/3 in her back yard...1/3 at Granny's and 1/3 at auntie Dot's, (her fav. sister). Course, they were both gone by then, so I snuck up to the yards in the wee hours of the morning and spread the ashes on the yards of what now were houses belonging to strangers. I find this to be absolutely hilarious. But the ashes needed to go there, to hell with the law!

 

Bet my power tools could get that box open!

my sis had a service at the river and dumped most of him there (I was not invited, my sister is an uncaring bitch) and then I was handed the tiniest of pill boxes. He was on his thrid wife at the time and I guess she got most of him (EWE) I am NOT into keeping the damn ashes and honestly I think he is resting safely in the junk drawer at the moment. All I want is to give him back to the earth. He was a fisherman most of his life and should be given to the ocean he so loved. (Either that or into a giant boilermaker or screwdriver) He wasn't a great dad but I miss him none the less. Liek I said, when he died he was a different (sick) person.

I am NOT into keeping the damn ashes and honestly I think he is resting safely in the junk drawer at the moment.

 

THIS

 

is absolutely hilarious.

 

Tizz its fab that you can look past some of the things he did that were wrong and remember the good times you had with him. I have been made aware of some things my Father did that over time left me with a bad taste in my mouth, but these things don't define the man I remember as my Father.

I geuss I forgot how many of this things I have, I also have a ty that was his, my favorite, his rob that I used to borrow and a pair of his dress shoes that he wore to church. I think I even have a casual shirt of his that I gave him for Christmas one year. Of course the best thing I have is his wedding band. Its too big for me to wear, I need to have it sized down because it felt good to wear it.

I think the reason I have never been able to find a man to share my life with is because my Father was "larger then life". I have certain ideas of what a man should do and be based on my Father, I can't (don't really want to) set these aside and tolerate some of the bullshit men try nowadays.

I have some family furniture that belong to his Mother, from before the Depression of 1929. Things I grew up with. It will be strange sitting down to Thanksgiving dinner at the table he always sat at. I don't think I can have another man sit in his place, I will sit at the head of the table instead. I may be adopted but I am my Fathers Daughter.