Thursday, February 5, 2009

Saving the World, a different kind of Dogs on Thursday

September 15, 1941 - February 5, 2002

It is again February 5th. I didn't actually feel really sad today when I woke up. But I also want to honor my dad today. And, the inevitable waves of grief that I will feel as I remember that day seven years ago.

Dad (pictured above with Gulliver in 1976 or so) died seven years ago. Thoughts of him occupy so much of my mind so much of the time. I often feel embarrassed that I mention him as frequently as I do. As if by talking about him, I will be able to fill the emptiness that I feel in my heart without him.

It isn't as though we were really close or talked about a lot, but the potential was there. We were moving that direction and now that possibility is left hanging. Over the past seven years I've felt all kinds of things about this, and for the first two or three years I could not even remember him "well" because when he got sick he looked so different. It is a relief to be able to remember him as he was most of his life now. Old photos have me longing for those days, hoping to be able to get closer with him. Just have him hug me one more time and say "hey, bub, that's good stuff."

I tell my clients that grief isn't a predictable process, it just is. So, I've been working on accepting that for myself. Some days I just feel incredibly sad and other days I feel very glad that I got to say many of the things I needed to say, and he told me he was proud of me.

The day before he died, we were "discussing" his medication or something and I looked at him and just started to cry. He whispered that he loved me and that I can't change the world. Through my tears, I told him I wasn't going to stop trying.

So, today, I will be intentional about what I am doing to change my world. I will do nice things for myself because I can't change the world without starting with me.

Be kind to yourselves today.


  1. What a sweet photo for a very powerful post. May today be not too heavy on the grieving for you.

  2. Thanks for a beautiful post....I say, wiping my eyes...

  3. I'm sitting at my computer, at work, crying like a baby right now. I can't imagine...simply can't imagine life without my dad. It sounds like your dad was a wonderful guy. That picture of him with a dog on his lap makes me love him, too! I'm sending you [[[hugs]]] to get through this rough day.

    Oh, and he was right that we can't change the world. That can be defeating, but I look at it this way...even a little teeny tiny thing that we do for someone we love, or just anyone we come into contact with during the day is like a pebble in a pothole. If there are enough pebbles, eventually the pothole gets filled, and life's highway is a little less bumpy. Corny, I know, but there you have it!

  4. I'm so sorry for your sadness, hug Grace...I'm sure she'll make you feel lots better!

  5. Thanks for giving yourself the space to grief. And thank you for sharing a beautiful memory. Love ya lots.

  6. What a lovely tribute to your father. Hope yesterday wasn't too rough for you. Be nice to you everyday and you will be nicer to others, changing their world - no matter how small the impact. g

  7. Be gentle on your emotions. I have learned that our departed loved ones, furry and human, are always with us if we let them in our hearts. Your post shows the depth of human emotion that you are capable of. Soar and I wipe the tears from my eyes....


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