My first memory of Dad was when he took me to the Jersey Shore. I might have been barely a full grown toddler and most afraid of the massive pull of the tide. Dad held my hand tightly and walked me gingerly into the ocean. My fear was profound but his hand was my anchor. He told me not to be afraid for he would always be with me. I carried that trust even as I placed a rose on his casket this week. I am confident he will be in touch with my spirit and receive me home when my hour arrives.
I've written about Dad before in my blog but now wish to add a few more thoughts. He was graced by my Mother who gave stewardship to him in a good way for Dad was always most appreciative and taught us kids to be so for our Mother. When the appointed time drew near, he slipped away in her arms and my two sisters arms, governing angels that they were. Each of us felt the prick of his absence, his final wave goodbye and will show tribute in the days and years to come, in the many ways he left his mark.
It is written, there is no immunity from life's sorrows and in attempting to protect ourselves from pain by simply closing a little to life cannot save us. Often we are afraid that if we touch our pain we will be swallowed up by it and deem us dysfunctional. If we become so overwhelmed with grief, all the good in our life will be inaccessible to us. When pain is large we feel we cannot expand enough to hold it all. Yet when we are with pain we somehow can retrieve parts of ourselves and are able to once again love those parts.
Wisdom is often born, they say, in the shadows and more is visible in darkness than in light. Oddly, sorrow and joy do not cast shadows because they provide the steady glare of illumination. Wisdom stretches us beyond where we even thought we could go to tell ourselves the truth. Wisdom asks us to choose life, and to experience it fully.
My father, being poignantly honest, lived each experience of life fully. Challenges were welcomed, brainstorming was commonplace. He golfed, sat on bleachers, drove miles and miles to work with a team of salespersons leading them to embrace the best they could offer, he had a memory for numbers, events, history. His penchant was reading inspiring works, praying dutifully, eating wonderful food passionately. His wisdom came from struggling years as a child having very little, to fighting in a world war to understanding the complexity of humanity. He was a teacher without a degree, a Godly force without a clergyman's collar, a coach without a team. With every hat he wore he lead by that example. That wisdom I continue to carry. He also allowed himself to love well and for 92 years while being fully present, because he knew that doing so gave back to the essential Sacred Mystery of God that sustains all life.
If I could sum up what he left as his legacy was to never devalue those things we treasure and see and touch the Divine in everything and in each other. And to hold a heart full of peace.
Ciao Daddy.
Til we meet again . . .
