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Re: shaking my fists at the sky
I can't beat what Ysobelle said. In fact, I hardly think I can do this
subject justice. All the same, I feel the need to reply.
First, as a male product of the US school system, I have been rather
conditioned to feel no pain and show no emotion. (That fact irritates
me, and I have been working on getting over the emotional numbness.)
Just the same, your post nearly moved me to tears. I thoght of how I
would react if my own father were gone. He is not yet, but he will be
at some time. I don't know how I would handle it. I've always been
dad's boy, while my brother was more attached to our mother. He has
been a person I could identify with, relate to, and commune with when I
needed to. Because of that, I can feel your pain, in whatever way a
person who has not actually experienced such a loss can feel your pain.
The only words of comfort I can offer are those that faith leads us to.
You will see your father again. He is not gone, he has just gone away.
This life is but a temporary glimpse fo what the next life can bring.
All the joy you have felt can be magnified a thousand fold in the next
life; surely that is worth some sacrifice today.
Perhaps the book of Job can bring you insight, or even peace. You have
experienced a loss that no one would wish upon another, yet is
inevitable for all of us. Be mindful of the good times you had, and the
good times yet to come.
-Chris
(No nifty tagline this time, the subject warrants absolute sincerity.)
TYoder at sschwab_com wrote:
>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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