Greener Pastures

It’s hard to believe that dirt could ever house someone as “big” as our dad. 12 feet below, beneath a small, brown patch of grass, is the body of man who lived a life much larger than a coffin could ever amply contain.Yet in spite of my difficulties with coming to the realization that dad is gone, it is, in fact, our reality. Life has to go on. ( Right?!?)

On August 10th, we celebrated my little brother’s birthday. The day was especially tough bec. it was the first family event that dad wouldn’t be around for. I know that we all secretly dreaded what it would be like. A multitude of worries hung like a dark cloud bec. if anything would make dad’s absence more apparent, this type of celebration would.

Dad ALWAYS made a big deal about special occasions – especially birthdays. He insisted that we make the effort to get together no matter what. Each gift HAD to be accompanied by a thoughful card.  We knew that absences would not be pardoned bec. no reason could ever be good enough for missing such a special event. 

But DAD wasn’t there; And we had to excuse him; and that has to be good enough.

During lunch I really tried not to stare at my brother. He was visibly dejected – and that just broke my heart. We all tried to don happy faces – but it was a facade. We missed dad. He should have been there – but he wasn’t – and boy did we feel it.  It took a while to get into the spirit of things but soon – we were reminded of how strong we are together.  We began to take pictures, laughed like idiots and broke bread simply to rejoice that Jo was born 34 years ago.

Want to hear something crazy? It felt wonderful to feel normal – even for a moment. Simply put: we looked happy bec. we were. We were happy to be  together. Happy to eat a good meal. Happy that our family was genuinely in tact. After lunch, we took the festivities to Queen of Heaven. We brought desert so that we could celebrate with dad in a small way. That felt good, too.

The bitter fact that our family was short one person made it even more important to stay focused on our little brother. We had to try to make the day better – bec. much like the fact that pancreatic cancer did not define our father, we could not allow our sadness to define Jo’s special day. 

From dad’s resting place, we went to a local “family fun center” and played to our hearts’ content:

For a brief moment,  we allowed happiness to genuinely take over AND IT FELT RIGHT.

Soon the brown patch of grass above our dad’s grave will turn green. His “spot” will become more uniform with the surrounding area. It will no longer look “new” and out of place. And though he will still be there and no longer with us – we will find a way make room for the possibility of greener pastures to come. I know it will just take time – but I know that, that is what dad would want.