Sun...Libra
Moon...Full and in Aries (lots of bloodshed, impulsive moves, anger)
Time...4:45pm
Weather...cool, grey, drizzly (perfect says Morticia.)
Sound...mellow, ocean sounds mixed with piano. Ommm...
Mood...where's the emoticon for 'reflective'
QuoteDiva sez: "If God didn't want us to eat animals, he wouldn't have made them outta' meat." (and so damned delicious)
Sabian Writing Challenge: (see message title.) 14 degrees Aq. You may feel the need to cut through the obstacles and go straight ahead regardless of the unsween hazards you may encounter. Push through with that you need to do making sure you pay attention to others along the way.
Hmmm...Now see, the thing with symbols, it's up the the interpretation of the individual. Each day I randomly choose one and today it was this one. So I write about it. It just confirms what I already know about myself. I need to get off my ass and do it. Push through the fear and insecurities that I've built for myself. While my dad was never one to push, he didn't exactly give me a lot of positive warm and fuzzies when it came to math. In fact, when he helped me, he could be downright impatient. He was good at math...good at everything. He couldn't understand why I didn't get it. He often said,.."If you can read, you can do math." I was living proof he was omg,..wrong about something. But he did give me pats on the back for my writing and wanted me to go to college and go into journalism, becoming the next Jessica Savitch. (if you don't know who that is, it's o.k.-some of us older folk do.)
(Although dad died before I found out she was a really messed up woman!! But she rocked the news!)
He didn't have too much to say about me and dance. He didn't consider it a "real job." Again, he didn't have too much to say, bad or good. I think he was proud of me. He never said. He once told me his favorite dancer was Fred Astair. I asked him why. He said that it was because the man could "stop on a dime." He said something else, I can't remember
Unfortunately, there's a lot about my dad I can't remember anymore. He died on August 12, 1987.
I knew I wanted to write about my dad today. Today would have been his 78th birthday. He died two weeks before my oldest was born. He had congestive heart failure. He pretty much sat me down on Mother's Day of that year and let me know his heart was down to 45% and he was not a candidate for heart transplants and such.
So for the next few months, I grew bigger and he got thinner. He had always been this good looking man, 6'1, 190 or so but by his last days, he was 155lbs and I had ballooned to 160 and at 5'2, it was a load to bear! It was funny, that I should ever have been heavier than my dad. Funny...and sad.
Seeing him get worse was so painful. My husband and I lived with him and his wife. We were just starting off as a couple, my dad and stepmom, were at the end of their time as a couple.
Seeing him suffer was almost too much to bear. Each night my prayer would be, dear God, take him tonite. My prayer each morning,.."dear God, let this be his last day." Prayers like that,..on-going,..absolutely horrendous to the soul and yet that's what I felt I needed to pray for. I wanted him to see his first grandchild and yet I knew that each day he was alive, he was in miserable pain.
He even contemplated suicide. My God. I believe my stepmom talked him out of it. He had guns in the house. He could have done it. She was a nurse, she could get a hold of stuff. I found out what his thoughts, his plans were when I caught them at a table together in the livingroom; he was madly writing stuff down in a stenographer notebook, ripping the pages as he went and handing them to my stepmom. She in turn would weep quietly and tear up the pages. She finally gathered them up and jammed them deep inside the trashcan in the kitchen.
When they went to their bedroom, I came out and got all the pieces I could find. I nervously laid them out and put the pieces together like a jigsaw puzzle. I knew I didn't want to see the picture when I did get it together but I knew I had to so I continued.
About 15 mins later there it was,..."I can't go on like this. I have to end my life. Will you help me."
There was more but that's all I can say here. The rest is in my heart, forever, like little spikes, deeply entrenched.
I was so scared. But I knew my stepmom would never do her part in this. She was a good Roman Catholic and something like my dad was asking her to do,..she'd never be able to do no matter how much she loved him.
But just to know he had come to that point where he felt like he had no other way out... sobering.
A week later he died. In his sleep. It was around 4 in the afternoon. He had come in at noon to ask me if I wanted some pizza. I smiled and said, no thanks. I was feeling miserable. I was overdue. I was resting on our bed. He said o.k. and closed the door. That was the last time I heard his voice or saw him move on his own accord. He was so weak. Had I known it was his last loving gesture as a parent (to make sure I was o.k. and if I was hungry...) I would have gotten off that damned bed and hugged him. But all I could muster was "No thanks." At least I smiled.
That was 19 years ago but as I write this last paragraph, it is yesterday and I want to hold him again and thank him for being such a wonderful dad. I want to say I'm sooo sorry I let you down and never finished college. You were so worried about me dad. All you wanted me to be was secure and safe.
He once offered to pay for bartending school. He helped me with college three different times. His last effort was in Jan. of '87 when he helped me sign up for medical transcription training. And I was very good at it but then I got bigger and more uncomfortable and with my dad's ill health, my heart and mind wasn't in it. My last day was a month before he passed on. He just wanted me to finish that damned course. But he was happy that I had met and married a man that would take care of me after he was gone.
Dad saw potential in me and just wanted me to see it in myself. He was never overbearing...maybe I needed him to be. It wasn't his style. And I could be a bit stubborn. "Oh I don't need school, I'm going to be a DANCER!"
He told me college would give me an edge. He often kidded with me not to rule out college since both he and mom graduated from college when they were in their 40s! He said, so never say never,..you got another 25 years to think about it.
Dad, I still don't think I want to go back to school and invest 4 years at this point. I can't promise you that. But I do promise to really start workin TOWARDS my potential. I WILL make you proud.
I will push through my fears and trepidations. I will try to remember others needs along the way, others being, my loved ones.
Last August 12th I became pregnant. That was the anniversary of dad's passing. On October 6th last year, I had a miscarriage. The timing was strange to say the least. I thought for a fact it must be dad sending me a message.
Aside from the miscarriage being painful physically and me experiencing the bulk of it while at work (and trust me, having a miscarriage at 7 weeks surrounded by a bunch of preschoolers is, wow, quite the experience...) it wasn't really one of those horrible things to have happen to me. I know, sounds strange. But it was early,..I was 43, I already had three kids. What hurt the most emotionally was that I felt I had let my fiance down. His ex wife never wanted to have kids. He always wanted kids. After 10 years of marriage, it never happened for him. I wanted soo much to give him the wonderful experience of having a child.
Now were both 44 and I haven't gotten pregnant since. When I started my period the other day, he said,.."I guess I just wasn't meant to have children." We hugged. We'll try for a bit longer but pretty soon we will have to say, enough. Adoption is not going to be an option in our situation. BUT never say never. Who knows but for the time, we have decided to try a few more months and then close up shop and move ahead in our relationship as a couple and of course, my three kids are still in the picture, one whom lives with us. We want to travel, I want to start a new career...life goes on.
Dad was never an "advice giver." But he did tell me a few things:
1.) never shit where you eat.
2.) take a precautionary before you drive off ( pee before you go)
3.) keep your nose clean.
4.) keep your nose to the grindstone.
5.) keep your nose out of it.
Dad, I love you, still and you showed by example. I didn't always act on your example. Thank you for being a great dad. I always said you were one part Dr. Spock, one part Mr. Spock with a little Cliff Huxtable thrown in for good measure!
My father, a loving husband 'til death did them part, a well- respected master sergeant, a good father, an exemplary employee and all around good guy!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAD!!!!!
*wish there were more emoticons for me to choose from*
I gave my boss two weeks, I told my husband. He was not pleased. It was too close to Christmas on top of everything else. But I was going to stand my ground against a man that at certain other times could be a very intimidating person. Especially when he had a couple under his belt. But this was so important to me. I had already stopped teaching dance because of this man and his work schedule a few years earlier. He had given me an ultimatum and it was a matter of choose your battles. So he won that one. (Dance was later hours and not so many hours. He was already doing two jobs so me being a dance teacher, while it was more challenging and creative, just didn't work for our household/financial situation.)
