8 Responses

  1. Elinor Warkentin
    Elinor Warkentin at |

    I’m sorry to hear of your situation, to be so close, but seemingly helpless. I am in Grunthal, surrounded by Mennonites, during fair weekend, bumping into all kinds of relatives and acquaintances from the past. Seeing many people much older than in my memories. Aging is all around me.
    I was wondering how to help you. If we really are connected, if prayer does make a difference, then I thought I’d visualize a visit to your dad, with introductions and life stories, of which I’m sure he has many. I think people are fascinating. I will keep him company, in spirit, for just a little while.
    May you find peace in your memories. Take care!

    Reply
  2. Doug
    Doug at |

    Colleen,
    Okay, maybe I’ll slap myself in an hour or so from now for the silver lining mush attempt but here goes: your post is bursting with love. How many people in a nursing home, devoid of vision, without the ability of find a whole lot of pleasure in life, actually have a loved one come to visit, with a picnic in mind no less, and who, instead of just shrugging their shoulders, sits down at her computer and sends out their compassion and concern into the universe?

    I’m not New Age-y, but I do believe in the connectedness of intention, love, and good energy. Your Dad is benefiting from this. Of that I am convinced. Your act of blogging your concern for your Dad — if that isn’t true prayer, and true communal prayer, then I don’t know what is.

    It’s funny in some ways. Your dad is still your dad. The parent. Okay, this is when I should sit down and send my resume off to Hallmark Card: Is it possible your Dad just gave you something? Inadvertently or otherwise? Did your father, simply by being there, provide an opportunity, occasion for connectedness, concern, emotion, and an expression of love?

    Perhaps I’m projecting. My Dad was in a hospital bed for 7 years, when I was in my 20s. It was only toward the end of a gruelling struggle with MS that confounded his every sense, that I realized: holy crap, he’s still taking care of me, providing me with moments of learning and joy and love. Twisted in his bed, senses numbed, he was still my Dad.,

    Perhaps you just put your father out into the universe today, introduced him to all kinds of people who perhaps didn’t even know you still had a Dad. We all suddenly ‘know’ him. Is it possible you just made him a part of your everyday life? Introduced him to a whack of people who know you from various walks of life?
    Heck, I’d say you’ve just done pretty good by him.
    D

    Is there a chance that your moment today was simply this: a father-daughter moment?

    Reply
  3. Catherine
    Catherine at |

    Colleen, I love the prayer from St. Francis. I say it often when I see/know/hear of something upsetting without being able to do something about it. It does help.
    I hope the scabies outbreak is not going to be too long and that you will be able to see your Dad soon. Best wishes.

    Reply
  4. Helena Katz
    Helena Katz at |

    I like to believe in that connection in spirit between two people. In fact I need to because that’s what sustains me sometimes. My mother has dementia and part of who she was is now gone. I’m forging a new relationship with her based on who she is now, but the underlying grief for the loss remains. One morning, I went to get a broom to clean up a pile of dirt my dog had tracked into the house. When I came back, I could “feel” my mother’s presence and “see’ her standing there with a smile on her face and saying “Is the dog ever dirty!” It made me smile – and made me realize that a part of my mother will always be with me. Perhaps it’s the same for your dad. I hope he “feels” your presence even when you aren’t there and that you both take some comfort in that.
    Hugs,
    Hélèna

    Reply

Leave a Reply

5,600 Spambots Blocked by Simple Comments