I've gone and caught myself a really bad cold...the kind of cold that makes me have to fall asleep with bits of tissue in my nose, because when I lie down, well...snot is running down my nose a la "Aqualung."

After awakening this morning, I walked past a pup sitting in my chair and croaked "Hi Baby!" to her as I passed, and as my own virus-altered voice fell upon my ears I stopped cold in my tracks. Mine was the voice of my father! Immediately, and I let out a wail, and doubled over in pain from sorrow.(Scared the poor old dog a bit). It sounded like my Daddy saying "Hi Baby" as he so often did in greeting, and the pain still stabs my very heart, I miss him so much.

My sisters are suffering, and I know Mark is in pain as well. Our first Christmas without Dad-will it ever get any easier? Or will I (we) finally become stronger, someday, somehow...

That was Daddy's voice I spoke with, saying "Hi Baby" to my Boxer, Peggy Sue...was that the sign that sweet angel Jan is seeking, unbelieving that Dad would cross over without sending us a sign that he was all right? Albeit, in reality, it was just my mucous encrusted voice speaking the first words at the dawn of my 3rd day with a terrible cold-but it was the voice of my father, nonetheless, coming out of my mouth. The immediate pain washing over me in recognition, undeniable and complete. And here, I had been doing so well...

So, let's open up the literature Hospice sent me to help me to get through the Holidays without even a phone call from my long lost Daddy...a business card, a personal note encouraging me to call if I need more help. Here is a little book, "Living When A Loved One Has Died" by Earl A Grollman. At first glance, it looks like easy reading, not very many words on any given page, skimming through it, I am reminded of a book of short poems,

"Since you may believe that the
person who died was perfect
and powerful, you wonder why
he or she did not use
extraordinary powers to stay alive..."

No, that doesn't fit. But poor Jan wonders why she cannot see a sign from Dad, their father/daughter bond was so strong, so full of love, she cannot believe that he would leave her without letting her know that he was OK. Ahhhh, Babay Girl...God has left you signs to let you know Daddy is with Her...they are all around. They are right in front of you, maybe it is you, sweet child, who cannot see.

Finally, a quotable quote:
"There is no short cut in
the mourning process.

It must be worked through."

No new news with that one, but I am thinking that Jan will see a "sign" when she lets herself see a sign...and there is no short cut to that sighting.

"When death comes, life is
examined"

"A wise member of the clergy once said.
'I believe that God forgives you.

The question is:
Will you forgive yourself?"

Dad drank a great deal of Scotch all of his life. He ordered "Old Smuggler's" by the case, defending his large purchases by quoting how much money he saved by ordering in bulk. Almost 2 bottles were free when he ordered by the case..."You can't beat that," he's say with his elf-face grinning, his brown eye winking...It broke his heart when I had to stop drinking. It was a physiological thing, not a wise decision when I stopped imbibing...A single drink presented a migraine, and I just had to stop. So sad and funny, to look back and know that Dad's feelings were hurt, that he thought I quit to guilt trip him. It wasn't that way at all in the beginning, but very quickly, seeing the drunken masses with sober eyes, it did turn out to be that way. I just could not be around drunken parties, without feeling irritable and pissed off. I changed. And I keep changing.

So, life is change...the only news there is that the change itself is always new...and "you've got to roll with the punches to get to what's real..."(yup, Van Halen)

Losing Daddy is a blow below the belt. Mom, in a wheelchair with the mind of a bewildered 6 year old is a blow below the belt. Mom isn't gone, but she is rarely here, either. She is amazingly congenial, happy just to be.

It is only a hard season if I allow it to be so...work, work, work...I have to start getting ready for work-work which keeps my mind preoccupied. The other night a lady came through my line whose face was familiar...we hemmed & hawed...she know me, as well, but neither of us knew from where we had met. Eventually, we realized she was a co-worker and friend of my mother's...I blurted out" My mother is very happy," almost defensively, then felt obligated to let her know Mom was in a nursing home, and content to be so. There were tears in my eyes and a stabbing in my heart, but I kept working, because it is what keeps me sane...

It will be a blow if Wally World does not keep me after the holidays, but if that be the case, again, I will roll with it. That's what life is...