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shaking my fists at the sky

To: "'OTR List'" <over-the-rhine at actwin_com>, owner-over-the-rhine at actwin_com
Subject: shaking my fists at the sky
From: TYoder at sschwab_com
Date: Wed, 18 Sep 2002 17:47:02 -0400


please excuse breaking into your days with my pain...but i see you all as
friends...and...i just need to do this....

 tomorrow it will be 6 months since dad died.

the anger & pain is intense for me.  i took yesterday off.  my husband & i
biked, then took 3 hours and rented a boat on the lake.  what a gorgeous
day. - a day i needed. - a day to relax and forget about work.  at one
point my husband pointed out a great blue heron beside us, and the pain
tore thro' me. dad loved those birds.  little things that remind me tear me
apart.  i see horrible people thrive-my dad's body is cold in the ground.
i see mean people still surrounded by family & friends-my family & i are
fatherless...and that kills me.  i hear a bird outside my window, and tears
stream down my face as i know i can't ask him what kind of bird that was.
i see a sky full of stars and remember that night at the cabin...during the
meteor shower, as in the faint glow of the night sky i watch my son's face
as grandpa answers his questions about the stars...and i want to scream...i
want god to be here, so i can beat my fists on his chest and scream
"why??!!" to his face.  i want to go back...to the emergency room to hold
tighter to his shaking cold hand-his body wracked in pain -and beg him to
stay and fight...no.... farther back...so far back i can somehow change the
course of this recent history...spare him the pain, the anguish that
brought about this end....no...  i want to go back beyond to those times
when he was so tickled with something that he'd giggle...those blue eyes
twinkling.  ....no...i want to go even farther back to when i was oblivious
to his pain...when the little girl i was believed naively that her daddy
would always be around to tickle her. .........

this past sunday i found a letter from my daddy that he wrote to me during
my angry angry years...during the time i just knew he and mom were
mistaken...about everything....during the time i especially hated being a
mennonite...the time i felt completely misunderstood....he explained how he
understood...had been there himself...he called me his "dear dear daughter"
and i couldn't read anymore.  i shook uncontrollably as i am now.


                    ..................twila


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Re: shaking my fists at the sky

From: Chris Lindemer <CD-Lindemer at wiu_edu>

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