A Letter to My Father
Life doesn’t take breaks, guys, just so you can write a daily blog.
Sometimes there’s a wedding, a graduation, a world disaster, and sometimes your father spends the night in the hospital (he is ok).
This event was supposed to be mine and ours alone. Private. But it’s my blogging-time, and there’s nothing else in my head this morning.
Maybe it’s ok. This is all of us. If we haven’t experienced it yet, we will.
It’s a non-negotiable. A rare inflexibility — at least until they get that living-forever business figured out.
It’s difficult to contextualize, especially for us Malmberg-Lundgrens who are determined to shape, bend, mold and figure-out our “malleable” lives.
Alas there is no figuring-out an aging body.
There seems only a choice towards acceptance, allowance, and surrender. So maybe in that, we are allowed to perform a final shaping of our earthbound experience.
~•~
dad, when i sit with you,
i want to tell you that you’re doing great
but i don’t
because, you don’t think you are
and if you don’t think you are,
i want to believe you
and not second guess you
i don’t want to diminish your feelings
just so i can feel better by encouraging you,
telling you you’re doing good
i don’t know how it feels
(not yet)
to struggle to stand,
to lose the ability to chop wood,
button a shirt,
climb stairs,
and huck hay
~•~
you say you’re afraid of dying
i want to ask why
but i don’t
i don’t want you to think
that i think it’s ok
it’s not ok
i never want you to have to answer that question
i never want to say goodbye
i do want to listen,
to allow you to shape your own experience
you want to go backwards…
it’s not fair.
it’s the only thing we can’t request
it makes no sense
why, when everything else is so malleable,
is this not so?
time marches
~•~
when i was a kid
death was something that happened to old people
but i didn’t know they were once young
then grandma died,
and i knew it was not ok
not normal
she was of the “appropriate” age…
but her mind was vibrant, happy, wise,
just beginning,
with so many more stories to tell
paintings to paint…
she was my friend.
it was not fair.
~•~
i see you struggling
wanting to fight against this
i also see you trying to figure out how to accept this
you have always been so strong
you are still strong
i want you to know that i see your strength
even though you don’t feel it
you are so honest, transparent as you struggle
but dad
your strength
your real strength
was never in your ability to
knock over a tree,
lift us over your back,
construct the perfect fire,
or use brute force to solve problems
your strength was in your willingness
to lift up those less fortunate
to express deep compassion and empathy
to let people know you believed in them
and that they could believe in themselves
you have gentle, intelligent eyes
they support my soul
and your buttons pop
when you think of me
and you taught me to drive in the snow,
to throw a football,
and with laughter and grit,
to run so i’d “beat those boys”
you taught me that hugs can heal
that all else is a mirage, a scrambling, a fraying
in the face of love and compassion
now, i watch you tell the old stories
as i listen, i see the importance.with each telling, i learn something new
a new insight
and it seems you do too
you reflect, you accept, you forgive, you are proud
i see you process all of these things
maybe you don’t see it
but i want you to know i see it
i see the progress through each layer of telling
keep telling…
i wish i could express to you
and have you take it in completely
how honored i am to listen
please let me sit and listen
i don’t have advice or solutions when i usually might
you say it’s not easy
you don’t like how your body is betraying you
and you’re not sure you like how you’re handling it either
you’re trying…
you’re working…
you’ve never stopped trying and working
your whole life
even now
when your body has almost
demanded you stop trying
your brain, your reflection,
your molding of this new reality
keeps working away
shaping this new phase into something that makes sense
i wish i could journey with you
and give you answers
but there are none
only the ones you devise
i wish you could know how proud i am of you now
you are handling this with unbelievable grace
i know you don’t feel that
at all
at all
at all
… all i can do is remind you that
sometimes when your buttons popped,
i didn’t feel the reasons either
i was struggling
maybe it was my pure efforts
that made you proud
well… dad,
my buttons pop now
i see your strength
all your love and compassion
and warmth
expanding out of you
is it ok if i see that for you
even if you don’t?
i am so proud of you
and when it’s my turn
to travel this road,
i want to do it like you
to do it with your grace
because that’s what i see
your strength blooming from your love
because that’s who you’ve always been,
beneath the working and climbing and striving,
so that’s what comes forth now..
as all else fades
thank you
i love you
♡ Annie
Originally published at http://www.jomafilms.com on January 7, 2020.