General Discussion
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Tragedy, like satire, takes no prisoners. It finds its intended target and lays waste. Like those asteroid apocalypse movies, the wave rolls in and scourges the land before receding.
Tragedy, however, is also the proving ground for the core essence of where people live within themselves, and how they treat others. There's the old story about the frog trying to explain to a tadpole what it's like on dry land. Tragedy motivates the good frog to jump back into the water and explain it nose to nose.
I lack the adequate vocabulary to express my gratitude to all of you for your kind words, your good wishes, your shared sorrows, and the strength you have given me over these last several days. You have helped to keep me on my feet in the aftermath of my father's passing, more than I could ever explain.
They say the internet separates people. Not here. Thank you. Thank you. A thousand times thank you.
Some damn good frogs by this pond.
SamKnause
(13,088 posts)Sending another batch of good vibes your way.
7wo7rees
(5,128 posts)Know that you and your family are much loved.
Again, so sorry for your loss.
panader0
(25,816 posts)I miss them so much still. Both, like your father, were devout Democrats.
It's a tough thing.
bemildred
(90,061 posts)But yeah.
FailureToCommunicate
(14,007 posts)Live and Learn
(12,769 posts)antigop
(12,778 posts)Thinking of you and your family.
Raster
(20,998 posts)...and welcome back.
retrowire
(10,345 posts)Let's keep going.
SammyWinstonJack
(44,129 posts)Duval
(4,280 posts)SoapBox
(18,791 posts)I got such kind words In Support Groups/Bereavement when my Mom was passing. I absolutely recommend the group...nice people.
I'm the type that has to talk about "stuff" and rarely do not share...hope you'll share when needed.
dorkzilla
(5,141 posts)And you will continue to hear and see him in your mirror and in your minds eye and your heart until you draw your last breath.
He taught you well, and Im sure he was damn proud of you.
Be kind to yourself and take good care.
Ellipsis
(9,124 posts)Best to you William
LibDemAlways
(15,139 posts)my thoughts and wishing you peace and healing in the days ahead.
Jack Rabbit
(45,984 posts)Solly Mack
(90,758 posts)Kurovski
(34,655 posts)Love is forever. It just is.
yewberry
(6,530 posts)I lost my dad a year ago this week, and know what a blow it is.
I found this bit of uncredited advice about loss and grief adrift on the internet and it's meant something to me:
I wish I could say you get used to people dying. But I never did. I don't want to. It tears a hole through me whenever somebody I love dies, no matter the circumstances. But I don't want it to "not matter". I don't want it to be something that just passes. My scars are a testament to the love and the relationship that I had for and with that person. And if the scar is deep, so was the love. So be it.
Scars are a testament to life. Scars are a testament that I can love deeply and live deeply and be cut, or even gouged, and that I can heal and continue to live and continue to love. And the scar tissue is stronger than the original flesh ever was. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are only ugly to people who can't see.
As for grief, you'll find it comes in waves. When the ship is first wrecked, you're drowning, with wreckage all around you. Everything floating around you reminds you of the beauty and the magnificence of the ship that was, and is no more. And all you can do is float. You find some piece of the wreckage and you hang on for a while. Maybe it's some physical thing. Maybe it's a happy memory or a photograph. Maybe it's a person who is also floating. For a while, all you can do is float. Stay alive.
In the beginning, the waves are 100 feet tall and crash over you without mercy. They come 10 seconds apart and don't even give you time to catch your breath. All you can do is hang on and float. After a while, maybe weeks, maybe months, you'll find the waves are still 100 feet tall, but they come further apart. When they come, they still crash all over you and wipe you out. But in between, you can breathe, you can function. You never know what's going to trigger the grief. It might be a song, a picture, a street intersection, the smell of a cup of coffee. It can be just about anything...and the wave comes crashing. But in between waves, there is life.
Somewhere down the line, and it's different for everybody, you find that the waves are only 80 feet tall. Or 50 feet tall. And while they still come, they come further apart. You can see them coming. An anniversary, a birthday, or Christmas, or landing at O'Hare. You can see it coming, for the most part, and prepare yourself. And when it washes over you, you know that somehow you will, again, come out the other side. Soaking wet, sputtering, still hanging on to some tiny piece of the wreckage, but you'll come out.
Condolences to you and your family, Will.
sellitman
(11,605 posts)As long as you live. If they do then he is not gone.
pacalo
(24,721 posts)Skittles
(153,113 posts)yes indeed
you are very much missed here