Special time... (this was an email I found written to my therapist years ago. Just wanted to share to keep the positive memory of my Dad alive)
I have been thinking a lot about my Dad lately. I was browsing books at Borders a few days ago and happened upon a book that I couldn't put down, entitled "The Last Lecture" by Randy Pausch. It is only the 2nd book in my entire life that moved me to tears. The 1st one was "the Notebook" by Nicholas Sparks. This book captivated me and I just sat there reading and reading, bought my favorite coffee, Rasberry Mocha Kiss, and continued on reading while the tears just flowed naturally down my face. It wasn't a painful cry, but a sentimental, bittersweet, calm cry... as I finished this book in just one sitting. This man reminded me of my Dad, reminded me of myself, and also got me thinking about all of the precious moments I have shared with my Dad. It got me thinking about the things that he has and is passing on to us who are close to him. His love of learning, his priceless optimism, his unabounding capacity for joy... and the list goes on, the more I get
to know my father. He wasn't always adept at sharing, talking about life, the universe, and everything, until he was diagnosed with terminal cancer and given a limited sentence to live, which he has surpassed in years already! The more I get to know my Dad, the more I find myself getting selfish, because I don't want to imagine a day when I can't pick up the phone to hear his voice imparting his wisdom to me. Lately, I feel as though I am being forced to think about his legacy (ies)... What will be the connective threads from his life to mine once he is gone? He's told me that it will be no different than picking up the phone with us talking on each end; just on a different plane of existence is all. Training for and running this marathon is like the ultimate hand-off from his life to mine. I picture him and I as relay runners and he's got something special to hand-off to me. This is what I think of as his legacy to me. When I found out he had terminal
cancer, I started smoking again, because I wanted to throw my life away along with his I suppose; but he didn't die, he lived, and while he still lives, he is teaching us how to live "bliss-filled" lives. One day,night, moment in time, he will surrender and we will lose, but at the same time we will win, because of all that he has shared, all of him that he has given us, all of the little precious moments that made up a life-time... some of those recent and some we have forgotten that present themselves right at the right time that are like presents we get to re-open as we remember them. I have been remembering the snap-shots in my mind about us as I was growing up as well as the moments I shared as a teenager and as an adult woman. I began training for a marathon almost by virtual accident. My sister inspired me, made me think that it was possible, threw down a challenge for me I would say, then my desire only grew from there. She showed me her
web-page linking to the Cancer-Charity-Runner site and I saw how we would all be running, not only for ourselves, but to celebrate my Dad! I was hooked, I committed to really do it, and I asked for my Dad to pray for me to be able to quit smoking because I knew I couldn't do both! I have successfully quit for more days than I can count now, I stopped keeping track, because it no longer matters. I truly believe that "Healing is Contagious" and I believe this to be one of my Dad's legacies to me. Not only, is it contagious, but it is our job to spread the light! My desire is no longer to throw my life away...because I have adopted a way to embrace it! Like never before, I-want-to-live- it! In this desire, I believe my Dad's hand-off to be complete. His gifts to me will be endless, just as he has mentioned. Synchronicities, will be our landline.
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