R.I.P. R.C.P.

There's no easy way to discuss this, but I feel that before we can move on as blogger and bloggee we have to talk about it...

My dad died last Wednesday. Most of you already know this. But maybe you didn't get the memo.

There is NO way to describe how this has already changed my life in a 1000 subtle and not-so-subtle ways. I wanted to speak at his service this past Saturday, but how could I? What could I say? What can you say about the man who was this presence in your life for 31 1/2 year and is now gone. Suddenly and completely with no second chances.

I find that I frequently have to stop myself from saying things now and that's never been my strong suit. But the things I want to say are of a preachy nature to others, and what good does that do? Lord knows that's not something that would serve HIS memory well. Don't get me wrong, the man knew how to give a lecture but just like any lecture I would be prone to give -- it wouldn't do anyone any good until it's too late.

Because I really want to remind people to stop and pay attention to the people in their lives who have made their lives what they are today. To appreciate these people. To tell them they are appreciate. To remember that the people who truly love you, love you forever -- even when they are completely incapable of telling you so verbally, they tell you in thousands of other ways. It was beyond my father to tell me regularly that he loved me and that he was proud of me. Every once in a while he would be able to do so (generally after a number of beers) and even in the telling he would get a little choked up and would quickly have to change the subject to something less emotional. Like, when are you going to get that fence fixed, Heather? Or tell Scott I'm going to kick his ass in fantasy football this week. What time are you going to be here for dinner on Sunday?

My father's dying didn't suddenly make the relationship we had rosy and beautiful, we certainly had our ups and downs and generally didn't see eye to eye on many things. But the one thing that I'm glad of is that in these last few years, I (at least) had been able to really understand that while these differences frustrated me immensely they didn't mean that we loved each other any less. I know that he loved me, because of the things that he did for me through the years, even at times when he wasn't even able to do things for himself. I know that he loved me because he tried to shelter me from the bad things in life, so I wouldn't have to experience them myself. And I know that he loved me because I just know.

You know too. Someone loves you that doesn't tell you and may not even do a great job of showing you. Try to understand that they are giving you as much as they can.

I always tried to tell my dad how much I loved him, but I hope that I was able to show him sometimes too.

This is where I become prone to the preaching -- take your loved ones in your arms and never let them go til you know they know you love them. That's what I want to say, because it really is true -- you really don't know when they'll be gone from your life.

much love all ~