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Kathy Young, November 12, 2008
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Today is November 12, 2008. My father died last Thanksgiving - November 22, 2007. It struck me today that this time last year, my dad had only 10 days left to live. What would I have done if I had known that? I certainly would have been with him every second he could have put up with me hanging around him. And I would have asked questions like: What is your biggest regret in life? Looking back, what would you change about your marriage, your child-rearing, your career, your life? I would have asked him to tell me (again) about his childhood, his high school and college years, how he asked my mom to marry him, what he remembers from their wedding day (62 years ago), what was his favorite memory of each of his children, if he was scared to die, if he could send me a message from "beyond" and if he would please save me a seat at the party. I've known so many people who had so many regrets when someone they loved passed away. I'm so proud of the person that my dad was and in particular, how very many people's lives he touched and helped throughout his long and productive life (81 years). I have no regrets. I told him everyday that I loved him. He knew how much he was valued. I made sure that my children expressed their love and appreciation of him. This world was a better place because he was in it - and I made sure that he knew that I believed that. It's probably because of that that I am okay with my dad's passing. Of course I've cried - and still do occassionally - but we all have to go and he went after having done everything that he was sent to do - and then some. He had a good, full and happy life that benefitted others. That's the true measure of success, don't you think? The question is: how do we convey that to our girls? How do we make them aware of their unique talents and abilities, their gifts and their blessings? Because once they understand their inner strength and gain self-confidence - look out world! What a wonderful world this would be if all of our girls celebrated their differences and their special gifts instead of trying to "fit in" or be just like everyone else. Here at Healthy Girls, we do celebrate these things and we help our girls understand just how great they really are. We show them the possibilities for thier lives - and we help them to believe in themselves. This is my way of touching people's lives and bettering the world in which I live. I hope you'll join me in this quest. And I hope my Dad's proud. |
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Comments
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Eileen GaNun
November 13, 2008 10:44 AM |
Every Christmas my dad who is 87 years old... says " well... I guess this will be the last one for me". Of course when he first started saying it about 10 years ago it was funny. We all still tell him to hush... that it's not true, and that he will probably outlive the rest of us. At some point though it will be true. And if not for him, my mom, or any one of us for that matter. Death comes for the young as well as the old.
I think of all of the silly things my husband and I occasionally fight over... or the silent treatment that we let go on for days at a time. How ridiculous it is. What if during one of our silent grudges a terrible accident took one of our lives. How would the the one left feel for the rest of their life?
We should all spend as much quality time with the people we love as possible. Children grow up, parents die, siblings move away. We only have one time around. We should do everything we can to make the most of it. If we lived each day like it was our last, how wonderful would that be? |
Phoebe
November 12, 2008 10:53 PM |
Last thanksgiving my family and I flew to Washington to visit family that I hadn't seen in over 25 years, and my grandmother whom I'd last seen when I was 15 years-old, exactly 15 years earlier. My grandmother was in the very last stages of Alzheimers, I was shocked to see this woman who once lived so boldly, so vivaciously, literally withered and unable to move or speak, unable to communicate with anyone at all. She had long lost her ability to recognize family members, and I was overcome with grief and shame that I, in my youthful selfishness and lack of appreciation of how short life is, had allowed 15 years to pass by without even considering that each day she was aging, her memory was slipping a little more, and soon she wouldn't even remember me. Had I known that I would never get to ask her about her life growing up in another country, about her mother and father, or even about my own grandfather I think I would have taken the time to do that. So that day, I took the time to tell her that I truly loved her, that I had always loved her, that I had missed her. I told her how sorry I, in my childish hurt and selfish ways, hadn't sought her out earlier, but that I had looked for her for years, and how glad I was to hug her and kiss her again. Coming from a broken home, I had always longed for my grandmas hugs and kisses, but because she is my fathers mother, I was scared to love her. Sometimes children bear the responsibility of keeping a parent happy, and so they are scared to betray that parent by loving the other and that other parents family. I think that is the saddest and most despicable part of divorce. I don't know for sure if I visited my grandmother during her last 10 days, it has been hard to get my fathers family to talk about her and I believe that she has passed on, but I know that day, she made her best effort to communicate with me much to my fathers family's surprise, I think she heard me, and I think she knew who I was.
If I knew I had 10 days left to live, I would spend every waking moment saying what I need to say to every member of my family, and letting them know just how much I love them, and just how valuable they are to me. But I would also make sure they understood that this life is not to be taken for granted, and neither are the people in it. We shouldn't wait until our life is ending to say these things and make these things known, and trying to do just that while taking life for granted is hard. We think we have enough time to say these things, but as I found out the hard way, we never do. |
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