THANKSGIVING

TO ALL GRAND KIDS

In my last letter I forgot to tell you that The Parrott family is putting on their annual Christmas Bells Program
on Saturday November 24th. Admission is free unless you want reserved seating in the center of the auditorium. In the event you want reserved seating, in the center of the auditorium, the tickets are $10.00
each. You who are organizing this event please poll your siblings and let me know ASAP. This is a well worth while program for old and young alike
Love to all,
Papa

So This Is The New Year

I'm glad to say that I've gotten past the part where I hate everyone and everything... for the most part. I've never been one to summarily dismiss an entire year as bad, or unlucky, or vexed. It's not the calendar's fault. 2011 had no ill will towards me. It's us that lump time and experiences together. That being said the resetting of the annual clock, as we start another trip around the sun and the earth tips back and forth, seems like as good a time as any to start moving ahead. But like Jenny said in her last post, there's new meaning in this year. 2012 is the first year without him. I don't know how to feel about that... except affected. It now is what it is and we can choose to attach meaning to this year or not.

I've been searching these past 8+ months to understand what's "normal" for someone in our position. At last I've realized there isn't such a thing. I can only do what feels fair and healthy for myself. I'm finding myself talking about him less with people, especially family- the people that matter. This doesn't feel right. And neither does talking about him arbitrarily just cause I feel like I "should." I can see now how families just don't talk about someone they've lost. There's never a good time.

I do feel like I need to put up some pictures of him. I need to face this loss more often. It's easy, especially for me, to make myself extremely busy. I do enjoy my hobbies, and it's certainly a better approach than doing nothing and being depressed, but they are distractions from being left alone with these thoughts. I need to face this more. I want to see his face more. Next step: summon the courage to frame my favorite photos of him. I need to learn to live with him as a memory instead of what he is now... a missing person.

But that much is sure.... I miss him.

I really, really miss him.

- Craig

2012

Hard to believe Dad never made it to see this year. I remember when I was little, we would talk about how far away the year 2000 was and what life would be like then. I remember him saying that I would be pushing him around in a wheelchair at the turn of the century. It seemed so far away and so unreal, and he would be so old and I would be so in my 20's...? I never forgot that conversation. I think he was as clueless and as fascinated and as scared as I was to try to see into the future. I had no idea where my life would lead me and 26 years old seemed so grown up. I think he was scared to think of me, his oldest daughter, as grown up and scared to think of what that meant for him.

Now I wonder what life will be like without him. I thought ringing in the new year would lift a weight off of my shoulders since 2011 was so tough. But it seems to have done the opposite. At least in 2011 I had my dad for a short while. In 2012, I never will.

It still all seems so surreal at times and I can't quite wrap my head around the fact that he's really gone. He was bigger than life and such a strong presence that I kind of expected the world to stop spinning so fast or the sun to shine a little less, or gravity to give up it's hold on us if he wasn't around. He was part of things. How can he just be gone?

Jen

Happy Birthday Dad

Happy Birthday Dad!  It is just incredibly unbelievable that you are not here for it. 

Love you,

Wendy

December 3

The approaching holidays have me a bit apprehensive.  It will be the first in 11 years that I will not celebrate with Denny.  So I thought about what I could do to keep busy and share with others.  I decided in September that I would find a group to sing with and at least get a little joy out of the season.  It so happens that the first concert will be on December 3, Denny’s birthday.  I thought that might be difficult but then someone said to me that I could dedicate it to him in my heart.  I have also been given the solo for Silent Night.  That makes it even more sweet or “saweet!” as he would say.  So those of you who are attending that concert, please send all the support to me that you can.  I promise to make it as beautiful as I can.  I’m counting on him being there to hear it too….

Becky

 

 

Finally!

Jason let me sleep in this morning, and it's a good thing he did or I would have missed seeing Dad. I was having a strange dream that ended up at dad's house (there was a boat, and a line of his cars strung together, and other very weird stuff) and I think all of us kids were there. In the dream I was totally ticked about what was going on, and I was feeling a bit helpless. That's when Dad walked up. I was so surprised to see him, and he and I both knew that he was dead, but it didn't seem to matter, and he and asked what was going on. I told him, and assuming he'd be ticked, he just looked at me, said, "huh". As in, "that's interesting, but it doesn't upset me." I stopped, looked at him, told him that I really, really missed him, and he said he knew. I then grabbed him and gave him a really big hug, telling him I missed him and that I loved him. He said, "I lived a good life, and you did too." I was confused at the past tense, but also kinda relieved that he seemed to know that everything would be o.k.

It was at this point in the dream that it was way too real, and my stupid head took over, told me I must be dreaming, and I woke up. I was a bit shocked but very happy that I got to give him a big hug, and super sad. I haven't been able to shake it all morning.

I think that with everything that has gone in this year, and with Thanksgiving being a lot harder than I thought it was going to be, maybe he felt like I needed a short visit. I did. I feel like I actually got to give my Dad a hug this morning. I mean, I actually felt the scratchy whiskers on his cheek rub my cheek. I haven't given anyone a hug yet today cause I don't want to lose that feeling that he was the last person I hugged.

Oh, and he looked just like the picture the to the right, but with no mustache and he was wearing almost the same thing. A white shirt under a denim shirt.

This was my first "visit" from Dad. It was a good one.

Got Dad on my mind. . .

That's interesting, Craig, because I've had so many dad dream visits lately, too.  Like you, I always know that he is gone and that what I'm seeing is his ghost/spirit.  He is always calm and happy and shows me that genuine, sparkly smile when I hug him.  I don't know what's got him in my mind lately, but it's been several weeks now.

Candy, I really really enjoyed reading what has been on your mind about my dad.  I'm glad you made yourself share.  I have loved hearing from siblings about our dad, but it's extra fun to hear from people outside our house.  He was different with you guys, and in some ways it seems you got the best he had to offer.  For all his scariness there was such a compassionate side, too.  It's great to hear about it.

I am still not quite willing to accept this travesty, by the way.  I have a very difficult time speaking of him in the past tense.  It isn't right.  I maintain that this got botched along the way and I would like to kick the universe square in the balls for it.  My head tells me all the right things-- all about realism and eternity and acceptance, but my heart just won't get there.

~Wendy