Back to Normal... ?

Life goes on. Despite the urge to stop time and just be in the moment, life marches on - for better or for worse.. or for both. 
 
First week back to work has had its moments. The students were mostly glad to see me. That was both nice and surprising. Some of them gave me a hug and said how sorry they were. Once child shared how he had lost his grandmother the year before - and that he and his dad had lived with her until just before her death. Another young man said, "Hey, Ms B.. my condolences". Another child in my class lost a sister last year.. she just hugged me. I am amazed. These kids, with so many issues of their own, offer empathy and support to me - an adult. Their teacher.

 I guess I never really think about the affect I might have others. Like many folks, I am more concerned with how they affect me. I like people who make me feel good about me, about life. I like people who laugh, appreciate irony, and know when to just nod. I'm lucky. I have a number of friends who fit that description. I have friends who look out for me, check on me, and share their lives with me. I get to play with their dogs, their grandkids. I get to hang out when I get tired of being alone. And they love my irreverant comments, and laugh at my foibles - with me, not at me. But I move through life, being me, and not thinking about what my affect might be on them...

This week, however, tells me that I must be offering something of value. People have come up to offer a hug, to give one. The school nurse came out of her office, looped her arm through mine and walked me to the door at the end of that first day. She told me that she too had lost a parent. She offered condolences, kindness, and an ear if and when I need/want one. It's funny-strange. I don't know why this woman likes me. I've spoken to her only a time or two, and once was to consult on a computer problem - which turned out to really be a server issue that I couldn't fix on my end. Nice lady.  I wonder.. if things were reversed, would I offer such things? I like to think I would. I do believe I have. 

It's been a week for my dad too. I arrived home at the same time he did on Tuesday evening. It was also his first day at work. I'm sure the hugs and condolences he received affected him greatly. He too looked like he had been crying while driving. Earlier in the day he had sent me an email that made me smile and cry... almost at the same time. I love that man. I really, truly do. It's no wonder I have remained single all these years. They don't make men like that anymore.

The subject line on his email said 

I may have to start drinking

Now, my dad is not really a big drinker, though he does like a Brandy Alexander at Christmas (and he makes a damn good one too!) and a nip of good scotch now and then. I keep some on hand - as much for him as for me. We both have developed a taste for single malts. But, his subject line amused and confused me. Opening it, I see line one:

Well, the canary died... does Mom need birds in heaven?"

the insurance company sent forms, addressed to her to change the beneficiary... has she changed her mind?

 My dad has the most delightful writing style. I like to think I have inherited some of that. And, at this point, I am amused and amazed.. and laughing out loud... but the next lines.. 

took the thankyou cards to the people that rescued Dolly... wanted to ask them if they would like Dolly,..

lost my composure; tears welled up and couldn't ask

...had me in tears as well.

This man, my dad, would have loved it if I had stayed young and innocent. Given a choice - his choice - I would never have dated. At the same time, he deeply regrets that I have not found someone special, someone who cherishes me, loves me, and is willing to stay married to me! My dad has been my hero. He has rooted for me, counseled me, listened to me, and supported me - all the way, every day. I love this man. And while a piece of me wishes there was someway to ease his pain, to be there for him, I also know he just wants me to be here - in case. And here I am. He can drop me emails, stop in to visit. We can talk or just be in the same room together. We are both ok with silence. We are both ok with who we have turned out to be. Both of us are a little afraid or maybe just unwilling to break down in public. We keep our pain to ourselves most of the time. Maybe it's a midwestern thing. A local minister calls us humble folk..

What I know is this: my dad is the strongest, funniest, and most interesting man I know. I am proud to be his daughter. And I do believe that he is very proud to be my dad. 

To us! To Mom. To life. To love.