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

MY Unca Doom...

When I was a child I was terrified of my Uncle Denny. He was always demanding, grouchy, and just plain mean...He would keep the family dog, Benny, tied up out side all day long. He would yell at the slightest thing. He even threatened to kill my pet dog Laddie when she bit Jen's ear....(Laddie had been injured and we were told not to touch her by my mom, but Jenny and I walked her over to the vacant lot any way)...I'm sorry by the way Jen! She was such a sweet dog, I had no idea she could hurt anyone! What a scary and traumatic incident that was to see my cousin bleeding profusely from the side of her head. Then to have my scary uncle yelling and threatening that he was going home to get his gun and shoot my beloved pet was too much for a young child to process...

 

It wasn't until I was 9 years old that I thought my uncle might have a soul...My mom, dad, older brother, older sister, Nana, and Papa were all up in the mountains at Boreal Ski lifts skiing for the day and the younger siblings were being babysat by Erin Burt. I was outside playing when my neighbor friend Aaron Allison came over on his bike. He asked if I wanted to go ride with him. I looked for Bobby's bike that he had hidden before he left. (I still swear to this day that he told me that if I found his bike I could ride it...He says that he said if I found his bike NOT to ride it) Around 2:30 or 3pm We rode up Bille Rd. to the Turner's house and played with their bunnies. When we left Robbie Shaw's dog Max had followed us, so on the way back I was worried that Max would get killed by a car. I remember Aaron crossing Bille first, and Max after him. I watched to make sure he crossed safely. Once he was across I followed on my bike. I didn't even see the Fluffy Foot Carpet van come up over the hill toward me. The next thing I knew I was in Chico at Enloe hospital hooked up to tubes and hearing my mom and the doctor talking about how I would likely be needing much care, and that I would be hospitalized for about 2 months. After the dr. left the room my mom explained to me what had happened. After I was hit, Jenny Walton saw me laying on the street with a pool of blood around my head, and ran told Erin that I was dead. Everyone thought that I was already dead. The ambulance rushed me to Feather River where the ER dr. said that they didn't think that they were going to be able to keep me alive that my best chance to live was to get to Enloe's Trauma unit. My uncles Denny and Ric met me at Feather River and gave me a Priesthood blessing. I have always been a very strong believer in the power of prayer. They put me back in the ambulance (Denny rode with me, so I was told) and sent me to Chico. I believe Denny stayed at the hospital with me until my mom returned from the mountains and relieved him. That first night I slept a lot only waking for a few groggy minutes at a time. I remember a young teenage girl in the same room as me that was paralyzed from the neck down. They put me with her so that my mom could get used to the inevitable...I was going to be a vegetable...paralyzed from the neck down because of the damage done to my neck. It was Thursday afternoon that I was hit, and I believe through the miracle of prayer, I left the hospital 3 days later on Sunday morning, able to walk, and had no spinal damage, broken bones, or any lasting injuries.

 

Time went by and I didn't see my uncle a whole lot for a while. Then I hit my teenage years...I was quite the handful for my mom and my very sick dad. Denny would step in and have talks with me. He seemed to be a kindred spirit...He had been a handful for his parents when he was my age, and could relate to me. He didn't yell at me or even get angry when I would do stupid things like smoke cigs or party til I was puking...He would tell me of trouble he would get into, and tell me how he was able to change his ways. As a teenager I liked danger and living on the edge, and Denny, My "Unca Doom" was right there living with me... He would show up out of the blue and take me for a ride on his motorcycle. He would talk to me about things he liked and things that bothered him. He would listen to me and give me fatherly advice when I needed a dad. When I had divorced Jim, Denny and I did a lot of things together, we even went to singles activities together. We had our own inside jokes, and even outwardly jokes that I know made Jenny and Becky uncomfortable sometimes.  He Is my Favorite and Closest Uncle. And I knew that even with my sisters creeping in on his good side I always was his favorite niece!

 

My life is not the same without Uncle Denny. I miss him! I miss My dad all the more now, too. I started writing this shortly after the funeral, but every time I add anything to it I cry so hard that I can't even see the screen anymore. Happening now too, so I'm going to go ahead and close this and share it with you...Finally.

I love you all, and I'm grateful to have you in  my life, even if we're not as close as I wish we could be.

 

 

 

      Candy

  916-897-4888