Your Work on Earth

Hi Dadaloo. I called your work again today. This time I talked to Brenda, not just some guy who never even knew you. She thinks your stuff may all still be there hanging on the walls in your office.

As soon as I heard her voice I burst into tears. Poor Brenda. I couldn't even explain why. Maybe because it was nice to hear the voice of someone who knew you and loved you too, because I remember calling you at work and talking to her, because she said they had all just been talking about you this week, because she asked about the boys and it reminded me of how proud you were of them and how many stories you made them listen to about them, because I know that you still had it in your head that you were going to go back to work there.

Or maybe because it reminded me that you were here. You were here and now you're not and I miss you so bad. And because if I go down there to get your stuff I know the pictures of the boys will be of them so young, and there won't be any of Abbey and Hannah. Or Nathaniel. And it hurts that you've missed so much already.

Probably because of all of those things all at once. But now I can't stop crying.

It still seems like a huge mistake that you're not here with us. Working for a living. Coming home with crazy stories about something the new guy did. And putting up new pictures of your grandkids in your office at the grain terminal.

Sad

I really thought we'd bring you home Dad. I had this scared feeling all the time that this might be the last... Time at our house, time you drove away... All kinds of times. But I always told myself I was being silly, that we'd bring you home from Seattle. At least that.

And it bothers me so much that we didn't. I feel like somehow we let you down. I know you wanted to come home so badly. I know you stayed and fought for us. But I remember you crying at the hospital the day before you died when we talked about you coming home. And I know you'd tell me that I'm being ridiculous, feeling bad that you didn't get to come home one last time, when you're home forever now. It bothers me so much though.

All of that time bothers me, the time after you left for Seattle. It bothers me that sometimes I cut short our phone calls because I couldn't think of anything to say. And it bothers me that I didn't come out earlier because I didn't have enough money to do two trips. It bothers me that I didn't bring Ben, because I know you wanted to see him. It bothers me SO MUCH that Mom and I went grocery shopping the night I got to Seattle. I wasted that first day we got there, and after that you were so sick that I couldn't really talk to you. I want all that time back.

And I want to be able to bring you home. Even though your body came home I feel like we left you behind in Seattle. I wish I could go back there and get you. I want you back so badly.

I miss you. I want my dad.

Remembrance Day

Today Angela and I observed remembrance Day. Not only did we remember those who gave so much to our country in war but we most of all remembered you, the one who gave us so much in life. As well as that, we remembered the trenches. We were there with you in that horrible war that took you away from us. All of us who loved you so much each have memories of that battle that we fought right along side of you. Each of us have scars and wounds that we will have for the rest of our days, yet here we are, we live on but we will never forget.



You can see our reflections as if they have been etched into the stone as if we had become a part of the epitaph. In truth we are. We were such a part of who you were just as you were such a part of who we are. In this way you will always be remembered. You will always be a part of who were are. Time itself can not erase this. You will always be remembered by us and when we are gone and time has removed all of us who remember you, we will be with you.

O God, Our Help In Ages Past
Isaac Watts (1674-1748)

O God, our help in ages past, Our hope for years to come,
our shelter from the stormy blast and our eternal home.

Before the hills in order stood or earth received her frame,
from everlasting thou art God, to endless years the same.

A thousand ages in Thy sight are like an evening gone,
short as the watch that ends the night before the rising sun.

Time like an ever rolling stream bears all its sons away,
they fly forgotten as a dream dies at the op'ning day.

O God, our help in ages past, our hope for years to come,
be Thou our guard while troubles last and our eternal home.

Amen

There Is A Hole In My Heart

As September rolls in, I am reminded of you and our last fun days and then the suffering that followed. I am so glad that we had that time together. All that is left are the memories and this big gaping hole. I miss you so much it hurts.

Wishes

Hi Dad,

A year ago we said goodbye. You held Ben and Sam that morning for the last time. And you hugged me, I tried not to cry, but I did a little. You cupped the back of my head and pressed my face into your shoulder and you tried not to cry too. I remember. And I remember trying to tell myself it would be okay. That you would be back. And I watched you drive around the corner in your car for the last time.

Later I went into your house and when I walked in the door I saw your blanket and pillow still out on the couch, just the way you had left it, just the way it always was when you watched TV and fell asleep with the remote in your hand and an iced tea on the floor beside you... It was there waiting for when you came back, and I lay on it and cried. And then I carefully rolled it up and put it away. I told myself I was being dumb. That you would be back to use it, and it wouldn't matter if dog hair got all over it and it had to be washed. But I still rolled it up and put it away. I have it in my room now. I stole it from poor Mom, and I have it in my room still rolled up.

Passing by this day feels a little like I'm losing you again. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's just knowing that I'm a whole year away from my last happy times with you. Maybe it's seeing the folders of pictures of you getting further and further away from the new folders I put on my computer. Maybe it's just me, being over-emotional and dumb, as usual.

But I ache for just one more hug. I hurt more every day it seems. Every day that goes by without you calling to eat cucumbers on the phone to bug me, or listen to Ben's latest story, or complain about how I never want to talk to you, I'm always calling for Mom.

Last night I dreamed you came home and we all went camping with you. And we were SO excited that you were back. I hated waking up this morning. I just miss you. In so many ways.

I wish you could be here so I could ask you for advice, and you could make me laugh, and you could take care of Mom, and you could be my boys' hero, and you could spoil princess Hannah, and you could go fishing with Ang, and be the guy who Jonathan and Mikey could always rely on. I wish you were here and we didn't have to face a reunion without you and we could look forward to being with our family the way we used to. I wish you could come home for the weekend the way you did in my dream. Even if it meant waking up the next day to realize you weren't here again, I wish you could come home for the weekend.

Could you maybe ask God if that would be okay? Just this once?

I think tonight I'll unroll your blanket and pillow for a while.

Dear John

Dear John,

Yesterday Becky and I went to pick a memorial stone for your grave. I am glad to have this completed. It was bothering me that to date this had not been done. I am sorry that it took so long but it was very hard for me to do. I think that was because it makes things seem so much more final. As long as this last task was not completed perhaps you could still come home. It is odd how I try to trick my mind, how I try to deny the truth. Even when picking the stone both Becky and I opted to choose one that looked the least like a grave marker, you know the type, the classic RIP stone that is curved on the top. Did you know that it costs extra to have one ordered that does not curve on the top?

I am thinking that if you can read my letter and know what I have been doing that you will be a little miffed with me on how much money I spent. I know this because we talked about this very thing. I am sorry, I had to spend what I did spend to make the stone look less like it was sitting beside a haunted house.

The stone will be etched with majestic pines and has a boat and a guy fishing. It looks just like Ispachaw Lake. What wonderful times we had there. You would get up early in the morning and go out fishing. I would sleep in a little then get up and make breakfast. It was like you could smell the bacon because you would somehow get there just in time. I can picture it all. I can hear the boat motor muffled by the morning mist. I can smell the clean air. I can see you walking up the path, fish dangling on the chain and the huge smile of contentment on your face. How content we were! How truly happy. Life did not get better than that did it? Ispachaw is a magical place. Becky wants us to go there. I told her that I don't think that I can. Just thinking about our times there bring me to my knees.I don't know what being there would do to me.

We kept the inscription simple. It says: Loved A Lot We put that there because you did love everybody so much and because you were also loved a lot. We put it there because to each person, as you lay dying, you told them that over and over. It was how you said goodbye. It said to each one everything that you would have liked to say if you had been able to. It told us how proud you were of us. It told us that you did not mind the sacrifices that you made on our behalf. It told us that you enjoyed being with us every minute that you were and that you did not want to leave. It told us how sorry you were to know the pain we would have to endure. You showed us the very face of love. It was your face. We say back to you: We love you a lot. We love you a lot. We love you a lot. That will never change.

I'm Watching You

This is the song that John's brother David wrote and sang at the memorial service. He has now recorded it. It is beautiful. It does make me cry every time I hear it. I am not at the place, like the lyrics say that I won't cry so much but laugh instead. It almost seems that as the days go by, I cry more and more.

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John used to say all the time: "I love you more. I love you today, tomorrow and forever."