Grieving For One

Losing a loved one is one of the worst experiences of our lives. One of the most difficult things we will ever go through is saying goodbye to someone who has passed away. If we are lucky we are given forewarning of the impending death. Time to say goodbye. Often times we are not. We are taken by total surprise when a life is lost. An accident, a murder, when an elderly family member slips away in their sleep.

When a loved one is terminally ill, we are given the opportunity to say goodbye. Does that make it easier? In some ways I suppose it can - you can say all of the things that others are not able to when death is unexpected. But what happens after the passing?

Family and friends gather. Condolences are given. A service is held. Eulogies are written and read to those who have gathered to say farewell. The service typically takes on a tome of a celebration of life. Memories are shared, stories told, hymns sang.

Following a service, typically mourners will gather for a wake or reception. More stores and memories are shared. There is often a mix of emotions - as all emotions are raw and bubbling right at the surface. There are tears as well as laughter as we recall Uncle Bob's lucky socks. Or the way Aunt Betty would always burn the holiday gravy.

There is no timetable for grief. For most people it never really goes away. The pain fades over time - but the ache never really ever leaves us. The blessing is that we have people to share it with. Holidays and birthdays of the deceased are the most difficult. Even though you may miss your loved one every day - there are inevitably days which seems to amplify the pain. Like a big spotlight on your broken heart. This is a time where family and friends will again often gather - connect and share in their mutual loss. And at times just hold one another up. Memories are shared and through memories, we are comforted.

Having a network to connect with in these times is essential to our being able to move forward through the grieving process. But what happens when we don't have anyone to share in our grief?

Those who know me or have been following my blog for some time know that I lost my father 19 months ago, after only having found him 14 months prior.  Every day is hard. Every day hurts. Some days more than others. Yesterday was especially difficult as it was my dad's birthday. I had gone my entire life not having a father and was given the gift of being able to have him for one birthday. Those who have been following along know of the One's. One Christmas, One New Year, One Easter, One Father's Day and One Birthday.

I won't go into the whole family dynamics again. Those who have been friends of EE already know the story, and those who are new can look it up. But suffice it to say that I have had to endure the grieving process on my own. I have not had the luxury of having anyone to share memories with. Nobody to share stories with. Nobody to share their memories with me. Nobody to share my grief with. And it has been very lonely.

Yes, I have friends and maternal family who have stood by me. Who have been supportive, loving, and understanding as best as they possibly could be.  But they never knew my dad. So in essence it is like opening up my broken heart to complete strangers. Really no different than posting my grief through this venue. Perhaps the exact reason why I took to writing so extensively about the journey around my father to begin with.

Even though I have had to swallow my grief and try to digest it on my own with no outlet, I believe I have done as well as could possibly be expected under the circumstances. The problem is that no matter how hard I try to push the grief down, it always manages to resurface. And on days such as his birthday, with Father's Day right around the corner - the pain comes rushing to the surface all over again. And I am reminded again of the fact that there is really nobody in the world to share it with.

I know that I will be okay. Because I have to be. The pain will leak through my eyes as I put my head to sleep tonight, and by the morning I will be able to breathe once again. I will fall back into my routine and muster up the strength to continue with my days as best I can.

Until the next time.

I miss you Dad. Happy Birthday.

How May I Pray For You?

As most of you may know by now, my late father was a Pastor for over thirty years and would often ask of others how he may pray for them.  I have been moved by the way in which he would reach out to strangers as well as friends and family. Always thinking of others - always finding a way to seek out the need and always willing to stop in his tracks - in mid conversation to pray for someone else.

After his passing, I wanted to honor him in this way and had asked friends and readers how I might pray for them.  We all go through struggles, whether in the workplace, within the family, health, finances, whatever it might be. And it never hurts to know that someone is in your corner. Someone is lifting you up in prayer.

So today I felt moved to put out the call once again.  And I ask - How may I pray for you?

You are invited to send your prayer request by commenting in the facebook group or in private through the inbox or by emailing me directly at  info@enchantedessence.ca

As dad would always say...

Keep Looking Up!

-Laura

A Year

What are the words that can be said to fill the emptiness? What are the words to cling to when your heart hurts? What are the words whispered when you need strength to move from one day to the next?

12 months.
365 days.
525,600 minutes.
42,048,000 heartbeats.


This past year has on one hand gone by like the blink of an eye. Like a dream. Unknowing of how you got from one point in time to the next. Yet on the other hand it feels like time has stood still. It feels like yesterday since I last spoke with you. Each day I ask God to sustain me. To give me strength. To hear my heart. I talk to you - can you hear me? I think about what was had for such a short precious time and how quickly everything can slip away.  Like trying in vain to hold a fist full of water that you can feel escaping between your fingers.

I think of you when I see the changing of the leaves. The fresh fallen snow. A feather laying in my path. I know that you are walking with me. I know that you have never left my side. But what I wouldn't give to talk to you one more time. How I wish heaven had a phone.

How I wish we could turn back time.

I remember your words - your every teaching. And I keep looking up. Knowing that one day we will see one another again.

Continued Rest Dad.

I love you.

-Laura
♥♥♥♥

Father's Day

I thought about what I wanted to say today. The truth of the matter is that I really wish I could just sleep this day away. My breath is cut and my heart hurts.

Many of you know how difficult this day is for me. I found my father two years ago on Father's Day. As a child I never got to buy him an ugly tie, or a mug that says DAD on it. Never got to give him a card made out of construction paper in school.  Last year was the first time in my life that I got to buy a Father's Day card. That would be the one and only time I got to buy such a card. The one and only time I got to call up my dad and wish him a Happy Father's Day. In that conversation I tried to be upbeat and positive - for him. We spoke about how 'next year' we would spend the day together, though I knew in my heart that his days were numbered.

It has now been ten months since he left this earth. Ten months since my heart was ripped open. I still struggle to breathe at times. This day will always - always be bitter-sweet for me ...right now it is mostly bitter.

If you are fortunate to have you dad in your life - treasure your time with him.
If you are a dad, let your children know how much you love and adore them.

Happy Father's Day!

-Laura

Life Is But A Dream

This weekend will be one year since I took a four hour train ride to meet my dad for the first time. It was May 5th/2012, and I was a nervous wreck! I was so excited and could not get there fast enough, and at the same time I was sure I was going to throw up! My stomach was doing flip-flops. The day had finally arrived, I was going to be face-to-face with my father!!

I can recall every second of that trip in my mind's eye. I can see my sister in her pink sweat shirt, sitting on the hood of a car next to my brother in law, the first two people I saw when I got off the train. I knew them instantly! I remember hugging them and thinking - wow! I am hugging my little sister for the first time! We went to the van and she and I began to bag up the gifts I had brought for her kids. I could not wait to get to the house. The entire ride up there was so surreal as they pointed out points of interest along the route. Dad's church ... the house my other sister lived in. Everything they pointed out - everything I saw became an instant snapshot in my mind. I did not want to forget a single moment. Memories I wanted to preserve forever.

We got to the house and my heart was beating in my eyeballs!! I could hardly breathe!! I could hear dad's voice as he made his way down the short hallway. I wanted to go to him - as he was recently back from hip surgery .. but I knew it was important to him to be able to come to me. So I waited, and when he turned the corner - and we hugged... I wanted to cry.  I can still feel his arms around me.

We went to the sun porch and sat, chatted, looked through photo albums. I could not take my eyes off of him.  I wanted to remember every fleck in his eyes, every wrinkle, every gray hair. His face - his sweet face burned into my mind and into my heart. And when I close my eyes, I can see him sitting there.

We had dinner, and I spent some time on the back deck with my sister, brother-in-law and their kids.  It was so amazing having that time together. The kids were so adorable! I instantly fell in love with my niece and nephew.

Later that evening, the family was inside watching a movie, and I was out on the deck having a smoke. Looking around. Listening to the voices from within the house when it hit me. "I am at my dad's house!!" I wished that I could lock that moment in time and just stay there forever! How I wish that life came with a pause button.

When I returned inside, we all gathered around dad's chair where he spent much of his time after the surgery. His hospital bed next to it, where my brother-in-law was laying back, my sister and I were on the small sofa under the window, with the kids. Dad's wife pulled out some question cards and we took turns sharing with one another. I remember a question came up asking what our biggest regret was, it was my turn and my sister pipped up "I know!" ... I looked to her and she said .... "you regret never have had a son" ... she was right, but more than that - it felt like she really knew me. Like we were real sisters.

A while later it was time for everyone to turn in. It had been a long day. I remember looking at dad and it felt like I was moving through a dream - I was going to sleep just downstairs from him - for the first time.  Truth be told, I really did not get much sleep that night. I was so tired, but my mind was just racing. I was sure that I could hear his heart beating through the house.

The next morning after getting cleaned up, I came upstairs and took this pic of Dad reading the Sunday paper. I sat with him for a while, and he showed me the bible that he and his wife had given me the night before, that it now read to Laura from Tricia and Dad. That meant the world to me, it sits in my living room to this day - as I read daily from it.

We spent the rest of the day just visiting, and I played games with my niece and nephew, we colored and played, and took loads of pictures to remember the time we spent together. We gathered around the table and as I sat next to dad, we held hands during prayer. I have to say that his wife made what is probably the best chicken salad I have ever had in my life!

Before I knew it, the day had passed and it was time for me to head home again. The visit had gone by so quickly! I had only booked a short trip in case it didn't go well. Having not booked a longer trip is probably now my biggest regret.  I wasn't overly worried about it at the time because I was going to return in July with my daughter. She was going to meet her Papa for the first time.

That trip was not to be. It turns out that the weekend I spent with him was the last time he felt well. In fact his health quickly turned for the worse after I left. And those who know me, or have followed my journey, know that three months later my dad passed away.

The lesson here is what I always say, that tomorrows are never promised. I counted on that second trip in July, had I known then what I know now, I would have booked a longer trip in May. I would have not waited until May in fact. I would have gone in December, and every month after.

As this weekend approaches, I find myself very weepy. My heart is so thankful for the time I got to spend with my dad. So thankful for the memories. So thankful that he was well during that time we spent together. But I am still grieving the loss of him. My heart still hurts. And those who have been following along, know that not only did I lose my dad, but the rest of that family as well.

The memories of that weekend on one hand are so vivid.

On the other hand, the whole thing is like a blur.

I suppose when it's all said and done, life really is but a dream.

Happy Birthday Dad!

March 30th, 1948...

God brought you into this world.

July 31st, 1968...

God brought me into this world

June 19th, 2011...

God brought our worlds together

He does nothing without a plan.

therefore we know our worlds

came together at this time for a reason.

I am thrilled to share in this day with you...

and pray that we will have many, many more

years of celebrations ahead of us!

I can't wait until May 5th!

Happy Birthday Dad!

I love you!!

Lori

~~~

Pictured above is the one and only Birthday card I ever got the chance to send my dad.  

His last birthday was spent in the hospital - one of the many times cancer brought him 

there. He passed away less than 5 months later.  Today is the first birthday since his 

passing.  And the year of firsts without him continues ... 

I love you dad!!  

Happy Birthday!!

-Lori

FORE!!

I went to the store to buy a calendar for the New Year.  I do this about the same time at the end of each year.  Then I take an evening and transfer vital information from the out-going calendar to the new one.  I had been intending to go for the past week ... but I just could not seem to 'get there'.

Typically there will be a basket or rack of some sort, containing a large variety of themes. Wildlife. Baby Animals. Flowers.  Racing Cars. Sports.  And so forth.  I will usually get flowers or landscapes, animals .... Nature.  I figure I will have to look at it for the next year and it should be pictures of something I like.

After circling the store, aisle by aisle in search of the calendar display, I finally located the rack, and to my surprise there was only one selection.  Golf.  I hate golf!  To top it off, I was instantly flooded with thoughts of my dad.  He adored the game.  He would often tell me that he would play every day if he could.  My heart sank as my thoughts then turned tomorrow ... December 12th.  Four months since he's been gone.

I stood in the aisle with the calendar in my hand - staring at it ...  for what seemed like hours ... actual time - about 3 minutes.   Then made my way to the cashier, paid for my items and headed home.  During my walk I caught myself singing hymns.  I had not done that since dad was ill.  The months prior to his death.  Before I knew it, I found myself in the elevator and walking down the hallway to my apartment.  I took off my coat, scarf and boots, unpacked the bags and set the calendar down on the table with the old one and a pen.

I watched my shows, ate dinner, did the dishes, had a shower ... and finally I ran out of things to do.  My eyes fell upon the calendars and with a deep breath, I reached over and grabbed them and began transferring the data from the old to the new.

Each turn of the page was like taking a bullet...

January -The beginning of the New Year without him.

March - Dad's birthday.

May 5th - My trip to Dad's place.

June - Father's Day - Two years since I found him.

July 13th - My next trip to dads - the trip that would never happen.

August 12th - One year since we lost him.

All of my memories of him began to flood over me.  Thoughts of all of the time we never had together.  Thoughts of the precious little time we were given.  Thoughts of how four months later .. the pain still feels like it was just yesterday.

I remember sitting around the dinner table with him on my left.  Holding hands as we said grace.  I can still feel his hand in my hand.  Our hands being the same ... identical on the surface ... one blood flowing beneath the surface.  I can feel his pulse in my own.

I know that my Heavenly Father walks with me. I know that my Earth Father - now in Heaven, walks with me. I knew then that I was meant to buy that calendar.  That it was a gift.  A connection to him.

And I know that somewhere ... beyond the sunrise .... my dad is out there ... doing what he loves.

13 And 3

Thirteen weeks today.  Three months tomorrow.  Will it ever get easier?  I fear the answer is No.

I talk to you all the time.  Can you hear me?  The way I hear you.  My heart aches for you - for what was - for what will never be.  Can you feel me?  The way I feel you.

I still find myself having to resist the urge to pick up the phone and call you.  I sometimes forget you are gone.  In those moments I am happy.  Oh how I cherish those moments - before I remember. As the horrible truth comes crashing down around me.  Like a cruel avalanche of reality.

This past week I have again reread our letters.  I'm certain I have them nearly memorized now.  I can hear your voice in your words.  I can hear your humour.  And I even find myself giggling from time to time.  How I miss our talks.  Our time.  Especially when nobody else was around.  I think that is when we connected the most.  That is when our most memorable and meaningful conversations and connections were made.  Moments that will live in my heart forever.

Life goes on; they say.  I wonder what you would think of everything that has happened since you left.  I fantasize how different everything would be were you still here.  I sill have so many questions.  About you - about myself ... about family ... my family.  Then it occurs to me that I will never find the answers to my questions as you took them with you when you left.

Some will say that I didn't become your daughter until I found you.  The truth is that I was your daughter, as you said; before I was ever born. Before my eyes beheld the first light.  I have been a Crisp for 44 years.  And ever so proud to be.  In your name and your likeness ... from eyes, to heart, to feet ... and everything in between,, ever so proud to be your daughter.

I often wonder if my likeness to you, that which brings me peace, may be haunting to others.  But I do know that God does not make mistakes - and He does everything with intent.

My heart betrays me as I struggle to convey my feelings into words - my eyes burn with tears.  This is nothing new.  My heart and soul have cried an ocean for you.  My only peace comes from knowing that one day we will be reunited.  And nobody will be able to separate us again.  In God's Kingdom everything will be as it was always meant to be.

I think about timing.  How after you became ill, you stayed for a complete cycle of 1's.  1 of each holiday.  1 of each birthday.  And now we are in the midst of 1's without you.  Holidays pass us .... and they are not quite the same.  My heart thinks of my beautiful niece Clio, who's birthday is this week.  Her personal 1st.  A birthday without her Papa.  How I wish I could see her ... hug her ... wish her a Happy Birthday.  I know that her mother will try to make it a special day for her ... but again ... it will not be quite the same - without you.

Births and Deaths are interesting.  The beginning and the end.  And we count them to the minute.  When I was a new mother - I could tell you the age of my baby to the day for the first year.  Funny how we do that. "How old is your baby?" ... "27 weeks and 3 days!"  a mother will reply.   It is only after the first year when we begin to count by months ... and then years.  The same can be said now - when anyone asks when my dad passed ... I say "13 weeks ago today".  I have a running clock in my heart.  One that requires not batteries, and is not affected by Daylight Savings Time.  The clock is eternal ... it measure our lives ... it measures our losses ... it measures the period, until which our divine appointment will be.  When our eyes will again meet in the presence of our Lord.  

I miss you dad.  So much that it hurts.

Loving you always and forever...

Movember

MOVEMBER is  upon us.  The month were men everywhere register their clean shaven faces for November 1st and then grow their mustaches for the entire month of November to promote Awareness for Prostate Cancer.

As most of you now know, my father passed away of Prostate Cancer  nearly three months ago.

To my male friends ... please, Please, PLEASE get yourselves checked!!!  And do so regularly - annually!!

I saw first hand what prostate cancer can do to a vibrant life.  Your loved ones need you here and TRUST me, cancer is NO WAY to go!!

So .....  Shave off the facial hair ....
then register at MOVEMBER CANADA and let the growth begin.

Be sure to check and follow the rules!!  Yes there are rules!!

And here they are!!!

I expect to see all of my male friends with furry faces this month!!!

Now .... Go and REGISTER!!!

http://ca.movember.com/

Inside Your Heart

A Letter from Heaven

Thanksgiving 2012

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day.  Though I have so much to be thankful for, I am admittedly finding it difficult to be thankful this year.

Today is 8 weeks since my dad passed away.  Two days ago, I forced myself to listen to the messages saved on my answering machine.  To hear his voice, a voice that really wasn't his.  The messages were left towards the end of his battle - and his voice was weak - words slurred.  My heart broke all over again as I listened to his words.  His precious laboured words to me

Then I decided it would be a good idea to re-read the letters he sent me..  the emails and the attached personal letters.  Maybe I am an emotional masochist - who knows...

The letters made me sad .... they made me tear .... but they also made me smile as I remembered his sense of humor ... his wit .... his way with words and way of touching me through his words.   Gifts he bestowed upon me in my creation.

I have been defrosting the turkey for two days ... 19lbs - lots of leftovers for sandwiches later.  Another thing dad and I had in common.  I remember last year we spoke about our love for cold turkey and mayo sandwiches!!  We also spoke about the changing of the leaves and how beautiful nature is this time of year.  We spoke about getting together this fall - he would take me for a drive up north to look at the leaves.  A trip that would never come to be.  So, now when I walk and see the changing of the colors - I take him with me!

Yesterday I made the desserts.  I don't want to do anything.  Today I am to make the dressing and clean up around the house to prepare for dinner tomorrow.  Dinner with family and friends.  I feel so sluggish.  I just can't bring myself to do anything.  All I want to do is hide under my blankets and sleep.  I napped for three hours today.  I could have stayed there all day - but at 4:00 I forced myself to get up.

I washed up and took my dog out for a walk.  Then came home and gathered the mini pumpkins I had bought and stacked them in a bowl set upon my coffee table.  A feeble attempt to get into the holiday spirit.

This evening I will make the dressing and tomorrow I will prepare my usual Turkey Feast.  I will paste a smile on my face and will have many glasses of wine as I get through the day.  Attempting to remember what it is I am thankful for.

Thankful for finding dad.  Thankful for knowing him.  Thankful for knowing the other half of my family.  Thankful for the ability and strength to forgive.  I will think about my sweet nephew and niece and pray they are having a good day.  Praying that they will know and remember how much Aunt Laura loves them.

And as I move forward through the day, I know that it is the first in a year of firsts - without dad.  One seems to be my number.  I had one year of holidays with him.  A blessing I suppose.  One to be thankful for.  (I'm working on it.)  Now I brace myself for tomorrow .... as I know Christmas is around the corner.

I pray that my family and friends will have a blessed Thanksgiving Day.  I pray that they will count their blessings.  That they will embrace those whom they love - while they still can.

Giving It To God

(Click on image to read the poem)

Certainly with grief there is loss in the center of the pain - the agony.  I also believe that the same can be said for betrayal.  When one has been betrayed - there is pain ... with loss in the center.  Loss of a love, loss of a friendship, loss of a relationship, loss of trust, loss of 'what was'.    You also begin to question if what was; was indeed authentic.  The truth is that if it was authentic for you.  That is all that matters.  A hard truth about life is that we have zero control over anyone but ourselves.  And for some people, that is more than can often be handled.  

For me, these past 52 days since my Dad's passing can really only be described as hell.  You try to move forward - you try to remember that you are still alive and therefore must live.  And you attempt to do so with a boulder on your chest.  Every breath is difficult.  Every heartbeat feels laboured.  Yet, you must keep going.   "Life goes on."  Is what they say.  

I've always hated that expression! 

In previous posts, I have spoke of the oh-so-difficult work I have done over the past many years to get myself to a place of peace.  Balance. Contentment.  Joy.  Oh how I've missed that place!

Like being forced to be someplace you really do not want to be, and all you can do is yearn to be in your own bed.  Something about one's own bed provides a soothing wash over the body.  The mind.  The soul.  

I liken my place of peace to my bed.  I am tired of being 'here' - I want to go home - to my bed.

I think about this journey.  And it is heavy.  Oh so very heavy.  

All of the time lost that can never be retrieved.   The loss of not only my Father - a pain beyond fathom. But also the loss of half of my family.  My sister whom my heart housed.  My nephew and niece whom I love dearly and miss terribly.   The abuse of trust - the betrayal - deceit.  

Where should I direct my mourning?  Where does my grief take root?  It seems to bounce from one to the other.  And under it's tremendous weight, I am weak.  

I have prayed relentlessly.  Prayed for the ability to shift the multi-tiers of grief and pain from consuming me. 

My prayers were endless - virtual chants.  I decided to make a shift of my own.  Or perhaps the Lord shifted through me.  About a week ago I did a post on Facebook - I spoke of my Dad, and his service to the Lord, how he would always ask people - "How can I pray for you?" ....  I spoke of my nightly prayers and that in his honor I wanted that nights prayers to be more personal, and I asked my friends ... "How can I pray for you?".

I believe there are no coincidences in life, but things that co-inside with one another.  (I speak of this several times through this blog as it is a strong belief of mine.)  Therefore I know for certain that praying to God to relieve me of my pain and grief ...... and honoring my Dad in personal prayer for others - to me, are in fact one in the same.

So, with all of that said; I want to put down the pain.  I want to put down the grief.  And I want to pray for the source.  I want to return to my place of peace.  I want to no longer attempt to sleep upon the rocks, but return to my own bed.  

I know that it's not magic.  That no words or action will make the pain go away like the flick of a switch.  But I believe in my heart that it is an important first step. Of letting go.  Of healing.   Of moving forward. 

So today I take that first step.  Baby-steps as Dad would always say.  The first step is always the hardest.  And that is true for me.  It is true today.  But I will make it.  I will exhale and I will take that first step.  For me.  As that is what forgiveness is ultimately about. It is a release of the balloon Dad spoke of.  It is about relief and living in grace ... in peace - it is not even really about, or for the forgiven; but for the forgiver.  

I have chosen forgiveness.  To let go. To forgive - wholeheartedly those who have wronged me.  Those who have willfully hurt me beyond measure.  I have chosen to let go of that balloon.  To give it to God.

I forgive you.  

And I pray that God will also forgive you.  

~~~~~

One Month

I can’t believe it is already one month since you took your last breath.  I cannot tell you how many times I have wished that I could pick up the phone and call you.   I would give anything to be able to see you again.  To hear you laugh. I still have your last message to me on my answering machine,,, but I haven’t been able to bring myself to play it.  My heart aches all the time.  When does the healing begin?  How can a heart once broken ever be whole again?  I miss you every day.  

Rest in Heavenly Peace Dad.  

I love you. 

Forgive Those Who Trespass Against Us

I am a firm believer that forgiveness is not so much for the forgiven, but for the forgiver.  I am sure that I am not alone in that throughout my life I have been hurt by others.  I can honestly say that through consciousness, I have made the decision to forgive all who have hurt me - in one way or another.  With work and many years of effort... I had finally reached a place of peace and contentment in my life.  A sense of freedom within my soul.

I believe that holding on to bitterness is liken to drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die.  (to borrow from one of my favorite quotes)   It was truly liberating to be free of the bitterness.  And until recently, I had the pleasure of living my life in a way that allowed my heart to sing.

I now find myself back in a position I was in many years ago.  Hurt at the hands of another.  And now it is in my hands to release the hurt.  Easier said than done isn't it?  I am not proud to admit that reluctance of forgiveness comes from the pain itself as well as the ego.  It is never easy to forgive someone who misused your trust.  Who deliberately hurt you.

Recently I was speaking to a friend of my Dad's who was speaking about this very topic to me.  A past sermon on forgiveness that my Dad gave was exampled in the conversation.  Though I will not betray the one who shared these wonderful words with me .... I will post a portion of the letter, relevant to this topic.

"One of your Dad's sermons many years ago was about that. He used a balloon as an example....so many times we say we forgive, but we hang onto that balloon and therefore all the hurt, anger and bitterness. What we need to do is let of of that balloon and let it float up to God...and any time we catch ourselves pulling back on that string, we need to remind ourselves to open our hand and let that balloon go. When we choose not to forgive (and hang onto the balloon) all that hurt, anger and bitterness lives within us and it is indeed like a poison in the way it effects our bodies and lives."

I share this because I found it very moving ... and oh how it sounds like Dad!  I so wish I could let that balloon go!  I so wish I could release the string from my clenched fingers!!  From my clenched heart!!

I truly want to be selfish and release and forgive.  For my own betterment.  To enable myself to return to that place of peace and contentment.

I pray that with God's grace, time will allow me to reach that place once again.

If you are so moved ..... I ask that you join me in this prayer...

On The Roof

I moved to my current place this past January.  The building I now live in has a roof terrace, but the tenants of the building were locked out from using the deck.  This is something that dad just could not get over.  It was like he took it personally!! lol  Almost every time we spoke he would ask "have you been on the roof yet???"  ...  Finally we were allowed up.  I remember calling him and saying ... "Dad! I was on the roof today!!"  lol

One of the last times we spoke before he passed, he was asking me if I had been up on the roof lately.  He asked me if there was a roof garden.  I explained that yes, it was a green roof, with boxed planters and such.  He spoke of how he loved roof gardens and reminisced about our trip to China and how beautiful the green roofs were there.

Since dad's passing, I have not been able to go up on the roof.  I feel a connection to him up there.  It was just too hard!

Today I was moved to go up.  I felt called to be up there.  So I went.  It was calm, warm, a soft breeze.  Birds and planes flying about.  The sun was getting ready to set.  The waters of Lake Ontario looked blue and rippling.  Contrasting the white sails of the boats bobbing around on the waves.

It was very serene.

... I miss you dad.

Thy WILL Be done

Death certainly brings out the best and also the worst in people.  It is through death when you really see what people are made of.

"When people show you who they are, believe them."  - Maya Angelau

I believe that much like when someone drinks too much alcohol and becomes drunk ... you see what is at the core of that person.  Are they violent?  Are they extra mushy and lovey?  Are they a fun drunk?  Lord knows the truth comes out when someone has been drinking.  I believe the truth also comes out through grief.

Since the passing of my father, I have had many, many people reach out to me.  Extending their love, thoughts, condolences, sympathy for my loss.   And because this is a unique situation, which I have been thrust into ... I also have some of these same people declaring their shock and disgust in how I was treated by dad's family.  I have also been offered an abundance of opinions.  Most of which are to get a lawyer. Being informed ... reminded that as dad's daughter I am entitled to a portion of whatever he has left behind.

Dad had a Will, he had life insurance, real estate ... and Lord only knows what else.  And the truth of the matter is ... they are right!  Legally, I am entitled to a portion as dad's daughter.  Especially since thanks to the actions of others, I did not have dad's support while growing up.

An attorney friend of mine asked what I had to 'prove' I was his daughter.  As I have a different mother and last name from my half-sisters.   I have messages on my answering machine ..."Hi Lori, it's dad..."  I have letters signed from Dad ... letters to my daughter signed from Papa.  I have the picture of he and I - and anyone who is not blind can clearly see I am the image of dad - with breasts and longer hair.  I also have DNA.

Those who regularly read my blog know that Dad and members of his family carry the BRCA2 gene, which increases the likelihood of developing various cancers.  Well, dad's DNA has been collected, and when I was tested, my DNA was collected.  It would not be difficult to compare the two samples.

So, yes.  I could very well go after what is my legal entitlement.  And after my conversations, I did think about it for about half a second.  Especially given the way I was treated in such an appalling manner following dad's death by his family.

In my heart, I do believe that is the root of all of this .... dad's Will.  I believe that they decided among themselves that when dad goes - so does Lori!!

To me that speaks volumes about what the priority is.  That whatever money, whether $1 or $1mil.  It was more important to them than I was.  So be it.

For me, it was never about the money.  Even when Karen booked the tickets on her credit card for me to make the trip to visit dad ... I wanted to pay half.  I never once looked for, asked for, expected any money from anyone.  Ever.

In fact, the only thing I had asked for of Tricia when I wrote the letter asking "WHY?" ... was if I could have a cardigan of dad's.   Because I had been given many DVD's of dad preaching ... doing his sermons ... his burgundy cardigan is one of the few things in life that I identify with my dad.  So I asked her if I could have it.

Realistically, what are they going to do with it?  They are all a size 2, dad was heavier like I am .... I expect all of his clothes will be donated to a charity.   So why not let me have the one thing I have asked for?  Spite, that's why.  I do not ever expect to receive the sweater in the mail.  Because that would be the decent thing to do.

As for dad's will.  Like I said, for me .... it was never about the money and since it is so important to them.... they are welcome to it.

Could I make this drag out? Could I force Tricia to sell her home and liquidate all assets?  Absolutely!!!

Would I???  No.

That is not the person I am.  That is not the person dad was.  And I will honor his memory by not persecuting his wife and other children .... even if they have no problem crushing me.

I am actually feeling a bit lighter today.  I have made the decision to give it to God.   All of the anger, the bitterness, the betrayal.  I have decided that it is not for me to punish these people, and for me to carry the toxic energy they have pinned on me, would be to drink poison and wait for the other person to die.  Even if they are not better than that, I am.

I choose to remember my time with dad fondly.  I choose to live life.  I choose to be happy.  I choose move into my future free of guilt.  I pray that they would do what is right and send me dad's cardigan ... but through the lessons learned over the past week .... I will not hold my breath.

Two things I know for sure;
Dad will rest and as he watches over us, he will be proud of me.
As for the rest of them.... I leave it with God to deal with them.

Thy WILL Be Done.

Caught In The Grief Cycle

Grief is an interest thing.  As anybody who has ever lost a loved one well knows.  From the moment you learn that your loved one has passed on, you are involuntarily strapped into the worst emotional roller coaster ride of your life!  You feel as though you are completely out of control as you spiral and spin around the sharp, sudden, emotional corners, and ride the merciless waves, often times more turbulent than anything you've known before.  You begin to feel as though Bi-Polar Bob and Menopause Mary had a baby and that baby is you!

There are those moments when you cannot stop crying.  And then there are the moments, for that second when you first open your eyes - when everything is normal.  And then you remember.  And your heart breaks all over again.

There is no timeline for grief.  There is no schedule to follow.  Some people will move through the stages at a swifter rate than other people will.  Some people internalize their grief and others will lash out.

I have lost loved ones in my past, but this time was different.  I suppose that typically when you lose a loved one, there is little to no notice.  So the shock is like a sucker punch.  In the case of my Father's passing... I knew that it was coming.  I did not have an expected time of death .... and there were many times in the early months where I had hope that things might turn around.  That he might survive.  But eventually it became clear that this journey was going to end in only one way.  Then the hope turned to fear.  And my breath was cut as though I had been breathing through a straw for the past few months.

I am still not sure if a prolonged death is better or worse than a surprise death.  An advantage is that you get to say goodbye.  And during the months and weeks leading up to Dad's passing, I thought that I was bracing myself for the moment to arrive.  I knew that it would still be hard - very hard.  But I believed - hoped, that it would somehow soften the blow.

Although I am thankful that my Father is no longer suffering.  No longer in agony.  No longer with broken bones and dis-ease ravaging his body.   But I cannot say it is easier than when my Granny or Aunt passed away without notice.

The loss leaves a deep, deep void in your world.  In your heart.  In your soul.  There are so many questions, and emotions.  Sadness, Shock, Anger, Denial.  A great sense of feeling lost.

In my case, it certainly did not help with everything that transpired just prior to - and following his death.  It caused my grief for the loss of my Father to be interrupted.  That makes me angry!

Over this past week I have often wondered if succeeding in crushing and destroying me was worth it.  If the outcome was satisfactory to the goal.  I sure hope so.

Last night I spoke with a Pastor ... seeking some direction.  I miss praying with Dad.  And although it wasn't the same ... in the moment - it helped.  A bit.

I know that time will heal my heart.  That my knowledge of Dad being in a better place comforts my soul.

Now all I can do is fasten my seat-belt and see how things unfold as I attempt to move forward with my life. One minute - sometimes one second at a time.

One blessing is that I now can speak with my Dad any time I want or need to.  24 hours a day.  Without having third parties privy to our conversations.  Dad's and my conversations were always best when we were alone.  Unguarded.  Uncensored. They were easy, freeing, fun, thoughtful, loving, insightful, and I forever will treasure them.

I take full advantage of this blessing.  I speak to Dad constantly.  I carry him with me.  He lives in my heart.

He knows my pain ...
He knows my grief ...
He knows my love ...
He sees all ...
And with He and the Lord ...
In time ...
I will be whole again.

Until Death Do Us Part

(Click on images to enlarge.)

Once upon a time there was a girl who searched high and low for her father.  Taking the information she could gather from her Mother, Grandmother and Aunt at a young age, she would search in phone books and as the times changed, and technology changed; she began to search the web.  In her 40's she decided to do yet another search.  But this time would be different.  She would find her Father.  On Father's Day!! (2011)

Upon finding the other half of her family, she began to learn many things.  Some delightful, some disturbing.  Like the fact that she and her half-sisters not only grew up in the same neighborhood but actually went to the same public school!!  When she was in grade 6 her sisters were in grades 3 and JK!!  How could this be???

Is it possible that she had been in the same auditorium singing Christmas Carols and her sisters were sitting just feet away from her and she never knew it!  Yes!!

She also learned something she already knew in her spirit.  So it was really more of a confirmation ... that when she was a teenager she had actually found her Father's phone  number, she called and a woman answered.  The girl asked for her father by name, told the woman who she was and that she was looking for her Father.  The woman spoke in a very soft voice - the kind of voice that kindergarten teachers have - she said "I'm sorry but you have the wrong phone number."

The girl knew in her gut that she had the right phone number.  She just KNEW it!!!

Years later when she had actually made contact with her Dad, she found out that indeed the woman on the phone was Dad's wife!!  And in truth, had she not told the girl that it was a wrong number, that girl could have had her Father in her life for decades!!!!

I am that girl.  The girl who made that phone call.  The girl who was robbed of having her Father in her life!!

A few short months after finding Dad, he began to get ill.  "An enlarged prostate" is what we were told.  Before we knew what happened, we were told that Dad had advanced aggressive prostate cancer, which ultimately spread to his bones and throughout his entire body from Skull to Toes!  In addition to all of his internal organs ... and despite what the last test had shown, I believe that towards the end it began to claim his mind.

The months to follow were simply HELL.  So many questions .... why would I find Dad now only to watch him die???  What did it mean???  Was I suppose to save him??? Donate blood ... organs ... what???? Sadly that was not the reason for the timing.  There was nothing I had that would save his life.  Lord knows that if I could, I would have - in a heartbeat!!

The one and only time I got to be in a same room with my Dad was in May.  I got to look into his eyes, hug him, kiss him, take a picture with him.  Share meals with him.  Pray with him.  Watch a movie with him.  Just BE with him.

Moments and memories I will forever treasure.

Those who have been following this journey know that my half-sister Karen and I were so very close.  I really believed that for a period of time we were each other's support.  Spending hundreds of hours on the phone, googling the latest test results, encouraging each other on Dad's journey.  I truly truly believed that I had another sister!  Especially since my other half-sister turned out to be .... lets just say special.   I discovered from my Dad that she had in fact lied to me about everything!  Made Dad out to be a villain.  To the point where his wife would often ask me why I stayed.  She just could not understand given everything I was told, why on earth I would even speak to them.  I simply said that I am just that person.

I believed that we had become extremely close .... although I will admit that as I watched Dad slowly die ... I could not help but be reminded of how because of his wife ... and that phone call ...  I was robbed of many many precious years that should have been.  Could have been.  If she only told me the truth!!

In the last month of Dad's life I felt a shift.  A distinct pulling away from my sister and ... well ... the family in general.  I brought this up to my sister and .... we had words.  She basically told me that her focus was on Dad and that I was in the loop.   Essentially saying that I was imagining things.  I was not being phased out.

In the months of Dad's illness, I prayed every day.  Several times a day!  In the last weeks I found myself singing hymns.  Everywhere I went, I was singing hymns.  People on the street truly must think me insane!!

Dad went into a coma on August 11th at 4:00 and did not come back to us.  I don't think I slept a wink.... waiting for the call.  THE CALL.  Each and every time the phone rang, my heart stopped!!

August 12th at 6:45PM - I was on facebook .... trying to occupy my mind .... trying to keep myself busy while I waited.  Then it happened.   My sister's status changed.   And it read: "It is finished, the battle is over. It is finished, there will be no more war. It is finished and Jesus has won it.  It is finished and Jesus is Lord!"

I sat there.  Stunned.  My Father was Dead!  I immediately went to her blog where she had been keeping Dad's Cancer Updates ..... and I saw the same writing .... with one additional piece of information.

It is finished, the battle is over.
It is finished, there will be no more war.
It is finished and Jesus has won it.
It is finished and Jesus is Lord!

Dad passed today at 3:45.

I stared at the page.  In Shock.  I could feel the grief rising.  Then it hit me.  Not ONLY did I just learn of my Father's DEATH on a FACEBOOK STATUS.  BUT I learned of it THEE HOURS after the fact!!!

I was gutted.  Felt weak.  I could not believe it.  How could they post a Facebook status before informing his daughter that he had died??!!!???!!!

Another sleepless night lay ahead of me.   I cried and mourned and grieved.  I also began to feel very angry.

The following day - August 13th - I checked the Blog - still not having heard a word from the family.

And I see a link to Dad's Memorial Book.  With the Obituary....

Click to enlarge the image and you will see that not only did I read about my Dad's death on a Facebook Status, But,,, I am not listed among his children!!!

I message Karen,,, I say:  "You omitted me from my own Father's Obituary??"

There was no written reply.  Her response was to delete me from her page and have her husband block me from his!!

I was broken.  Just hurt.  Deeply.  I could not breathe!!!  How could this be???  What had happened???

The following day I messaged Dad's wife to see if she would answer me as my sister had ignored all of my attempts to find out what was going on.  To my surprise Tricia did respond.  My message was short, basically extending condolences.  Her reply was short and all about her .... thanking me and telling me the pain SHE was in.  No offer of condolence in return.

The following day - August 15th - I send a letter to Tricia ... outlining everything .... asking WHY??

WHY did I have to find out my father was dead via a FB status???

WHY was I omitted from my own father's obituary???

WHY was I not welcomed at my father's funeral???

WHY was I being discarded upon Dad's death???

WHY was my treatment so cruel???

I was not even given the dignity of a reply.  Nothing.  But what was interesting is that she had kept me on her and Dad's page.

Sadists I think!!

I suppose I will never get any answers.  I have no idea what their problem is.  When Dad was alive, he said, right in front of Tricia "You are a member of this family."  .... I was told what a blessing I was.  I was told how wonderful it was that Karen and I had become so close.   I was told by Karen how wonderful it was for her children that they had a present and functioning Aunt.  An Aunt who loved and adored them, an Aunt who wanted to watch them grow and develop and spend lots of time with them!!  I was developing relationships with my niece and nephew..... and now for all I know, they are being told that I left.  That I turned my back on them.

When the truth of the matter is that not only was I robbed of my Dad in life .... thanks to Tricia ....

But I am now robbed of my Dad in death .... thanks to all of them.

And equally, in robbing me, they are also robbing the youngest, most innocent involved in all of this.

The whole thing is just so sickening.

If you click the image above to enlarge - you will see the details of the funeral.  Day 1 was tonight - and I was not there .. not in body.  My mind and heart and soul could not have been torn away from that place.  The First Baptist Church in Smiths Falls where Dad was the Lead Pastor.  My ache is palatable.  My pain is distinct.

How cruel to keep a daughter away from her own Father's funeral?  After keeping her from him in growing up.  To discard her like an empty pizza box before his body is even cold!!

Tomorrow is Day 2 of the services and again I will not be there.  I will be miles away, broken.  My heart shattered.  My soul crushed.

I have to say that I do not believe I have ever heard of such cruel treatment as was bestowed upon me this past week.  Probably one of the hardest and most gut-wrenching weeks of my entire life!!

They may be able to stop me from being there when my Dad died.

They may be able to omit me from my own Father's obituary.

They may be able to keep me from attending my own Father's funeral.

Which, by the way, I do not even know if he is cremated, buried ... if so - where??

What they cannot take from me is the FACT that I am his spitting image.

I have his Face.  I have his body type.  I have his hair.  I have his height. His hands. His eyes. Even his feet!!

And I have all of the memories.  He had a wonderful sense of humor.  He was witty.  Intelligent.  Compassionate.  And I am all of these things.

The fact of the matter is that my father is Rev. Donald Stanley Crisp.

Another thing they cannot take away from me!!

I am reminded of one thing in all of this .... that Hippocrates are in abundance.  That those who claim the life of Christ are at times the first to cut your throat.

But in time, I will heal ...  my life will go on.  As I know that my conscious, my soul, my heart are free of guilt and sin.  I could never do to another human being what has been done to me. And because of that; I can sleep at night, I can hold my head high, and I can face myself in the mirror..

~~~

Rest in Paradise Dad.

I love you!!!

(Your First Born Daughter)

-Lori

xoxo

Angles Watching Over Me

(Click to enlarge image.)

Many of us feel as though we are walking alone in this life.  I take great comfort in knowing that I have three Angels watching over me.  Through the haze and confusion of grief, we sometimes forget to be thankful for what we are given through the loss of a loved one.  

I just want to say that I am blessed in knowing that my Dad now joins my Beloved Granny and Auntie Nat in Heaven, each watching over me as I move forward through my life.

I love and miss you all so much!!  

Forever in my heart!!

♥♥♥