Tuesday, January 29, 2013

Hello in there.

I found myself having a conversation in my head with my Dad this morning.  My Mom called yesterday and asked if I was okay with a decision to AND (allow natural death). While I am deeply saddened that Dad has deterioriated so quickly since I last saw him, I can completely go along with what feels best for him, and for my Mom.

Before she even called, I had been wondering if she had talked to Dad about letting go.  My belief is that even if he doesn’t appear to understand much of anything that is being said to him, I think at a much deeper level, he still hears us. I sit quietly every morning and say hello to him from 4,500 km away.  I thank him for who he is, what he taught me, and energetically check in with him to see how he is doing.

My words to him this morning went something like this… Hi Dad.  I know you’re having trouble eating now and all those tubes are confusing and awkward.  I just wanted you to know that I think you have done a magnificent job of being our Dad, and taking care of us so well.  You always put Mom and your five kids first.  Always. You need to know that we will all be okay when you go.  And we will look after Mom so you don’t need to worry about her.  

Last year I talked about him in one of my posts… I am repeating some of it here as it remains true to this day (and always will)…

This is why I think the world of Bruce Cass Found…

He taught me how to laugh.  And be silly.  (Something that I continue to perfect…)

He showed me how to make other people feel really good about themselves – especially when he first would meet them.  He always talks about other people in superlatives.  He always finds what is best about other people and describes them that way.

He remembers people and what matters to them.

He followed his dream to fly.  To have a cottage on an island (which will always be one of my favourite places on the planet).

He gave me my love of music.  I can picture his hands playing hymns on the piano.  I can hear him in the car singing "Home on the Range" with all of us chiming in in harmony.  I can see us all doubled up in laughter as he himself would have to pull over to the side of the road because he too was laughing so hard. I love how he was always fascinated by church organs.

He shows me how to love.  And he loves Mom to bits.   And I know he loves each of us too.  (And one of the tenderest moments that I ever shared with Dad was the first time I saw him after Duncan died.  He just sat beside me and held my hand without saying a word.  I will never forget that moment as long as I live.  It meant so much to me.)

The last time I saw Dad was at my nephew’s wedding in Toronto.  While he was confined to a wheelchair, Dad was quite aware of what was going on and he was able to enjoy seeing his all his kids and grandkids dancing and singing together (with him in the middle as we swirled him around). It was a great to see him so happy and surrounded by love.

So while I anxiously await the phonecall, I rest in the knowledge that he will be released from his physical constraints and free to travel the universe, spreading love, healing, and laughter wherever he goes.

I’m hoping he’ll come out here for a visit.

Branded by love and gratitude,

Authentically yours,

1 comment:

  1. What a beautiful tribute of love for a man who sounds so very very special. You are a wonderful daughter Christie and I just know he felt blessed by your presence...as do we all.
    Big hug,