5 to Life

Hi Dad, It’s me.

Today marks 5 years since you died. It’s so hard to believe it’s been that long since I have hugged you, seen your smile. heard you funny jokes. But here we are. So much has changed in my life, and in the world, since you left. I wonder what you think of it all when you look down and see? I am sure you laugh at all the silly things I do. But I hope you are proud of the life I created since you and Mom left.

I am happy and have created a wonderful life full of love and amazing people. I wish you could meet them, one in particular.

Today is a day I will try to celebrate instead of being sad. I miss you so much, but will celebrate that you are with Mom and that is always only where you wanted to be, with Mom, the love of you life. I will celebrate that you are with the Lord, to whom you prayed and faithfully worshipped. I will celebrate all that you taught me. I will celebrate our wonderful memories, of which there are many. I will celebrate that I had such a wonderful father, who loved me enough to last my entire lifetime. And when tears run down my cheek today, I will remind myself to celebrate that my father and I loved each other enough for me to miss him when he is gone.

But most of all Dad, I will celebrate you, and your life. Love you so much, and miss you always. Hug Mom for me. And please visit me in my dreams.

Christmas to You

Hi Mom and Dad,

It’s me. And it’s Christmas. A time of year that is for those of us who have lost loved ones. Oh, and I do miss you so much that my heart aches. But I have to tell you something – I am happy. Blissfully, wonderfully, ridiculously happy. For the first time in many years. Happy like I was I my early 20’s, carefree and loved. I wish you could see my smile, and hear it in my voice. But maybe you can as you watch over me.

Even with this happy, wonderful life, I still miss you. No matter how long it has been, no matter how happy I am, I will never stop missing you guys. There ar still so many times I have thought, “I have tell call and tell Mom about this or that…” Even after this many years. I suppose I’ll always want to pick up the phone and call you.

And it’s Christmas Eve, and in my new life, there is so much love and happiness. So many people to see, and love, and gifts to wrap and wonderful to experience. And yet, I still think back to our Christmas Eves, when all of us gathered at your house, wrapping and laughing and living and drinking wine, and sneaking things into each others Christmas stockings. And how to integrate some of our traditions into my life with this family now.

And all of your recipes and cooking and reading your book. And so much love. The amount of love you raised us with is truly amazing. But I guess that originated from your faith in God and your love for each other.

I just wanted to let you know that I am happy this year. In the new house, with my wonderful man, making this life together. But I will always love and miss you guys. And I love when you visit my in my dreams. And I really love when we get a chance to hug in those dreams. No matter how long you live, there can never be enough hugs.

This is what you always wanted for me. I am here. And I hope that you can see me. I hope that you still send me signs, hope that you keep watching over us. And I hope you are proud of me. Because the older I get, the more proud I am of the two of you, and all that you did, and were, and taught me.

Merry Christmas Mom and Dad. I will love you forever and miss you always.

Happy Father’s Day

Weiten this year for Father’s day, but just now getting to post it.

Hi Daddy,

It’s the 5th father’s day without you. And while each year doesn’t make it easier, time has healed me. Even with that, there is still a hole that is left in your absence, an awareness of someone I loved so deeply is not here. I think of you, and how I heard the smile in your voice when I would happily say “Happy Father’s Day Daddy, I love you!” And hear your little chuckle before you say thank you and I love you too.

It is a gift of having the blessing of a wonderful father that leaves the intense awareness of the space in the wake of your absence.  And for that I am exqusitely grateful for missing you.

You changed the world, you cared, you loved immensely and deeply and you are forever etched in the depth of my soul, because from you is where I came. Every day, as I am out I this world, I see how rare of a human being you were.

And a tear runs down my cheek as I listen to one of the last voice-mail messages you left me, saying that you are home and doing good, so not to worry. I smile and carry that message in my heart, knowing yiu are indeed home with our Father, and happily spending time with Mom as well.

And I kiss you. And I say happy Fathers Day with a smile and a melancholy joy of having known you as my father.

Can’t Wait to Tell You

“You could have lived a hundred more years, and I still would never have run out of things to tell you.”

Now matter how old we are, it is always exciting to start something new. Today it was a new project on a new contract. Right in the fabulous new stadium, writing about technology. Meeting new people, learning about new things, writing new pieces, getting used to a new smdesk, new break room and area. It is always fun for me. And one of the best things was always calling my Mom at lunch on the first day, and telling her all about it. It was a tradition so to speak.

When you loose a loved one, and you finally get on the orher side of the grief, you finally start smiling again. You are happy again, you enjoy things again. You get excited about life again.

But then there are moments that hit you square in the stomach. Right before lunch I got so excited becuaw there was a list of things I coyldn’t wait to tell my Mom… Then the realization that I can’t. Because she no monger exists in this physical world.

When,those moment happen, you blink back,the tears and swallow hard, forcing the emotions back down to stop them running down your cheeks. You can’t cry in public, at work, at the party, or in the store, or in traffic, or where ever. So you just take a deep breath and carry on with your day.

But Mom, if you were here, I would call you and tell you about the view of the ballpark from the conference room. And about the technology involved with what they do (I would tell,Dad too). And I would tell you about the short commute, and what I will be doing, and thr 9th floor, and the people. I would tell you all,of it, because I loved telling you things. And you loved hearing about the adventures and goings on of my life.

And oddly enough, as I woke this morning, I smelled my mothers delicious cooking. As I woke from,my dreams, I smelled her chicken noodle soup, and smiled. It was a vivid smell, if that can be possible. And maybe that was her way of saying she is still here, still listening to my adventures. Maybe that is her way of telling me too.

Life is short. Enjoy the firsts, the adventures. And share,them,with you loved ones if you still can. And if you can’t, look for the signs – they are there. Because they can’t wIt to tell you too.

Hi Guys

Hi Guys,

Mom and Dad, I love and miss you so much, more than words can say.

I have been doing everything to take care of the estate.  We had buyers for the compound then two weeks before closing hurricane Michael cam e through.  It didn’t destroy the place (thanks to your incredible design and insistence that it be build beyond code Dad), but it did sustain damage.  Contractors are working on it. I have no idea what I am doing, but think I have navigated it pretty well.  I hope you are proud, and I hope I have done things up to your incredible standards. Thank you for teaching me such integrity.

When I go there now, I see glimpses of you and Dad, but I don’t feel you there anymore. I think you guys are off dancing somewhere else in the universe, happy to be together. And I think you come back to visit when I am there, but you do not stay. After all, there must be so much to do in the afterlife. And I am sure that you are the social butterfly you always were, Mom, Making friends and laughing where ever you go  And Dad, I know you are just happy to be with her, warmed by the light of her. So many people have and are helping me because of how much they loved you guys.

In a way I wonder if the hurricane was when you guys decided to leave the compound, use it as your exit. Mom, the gardens you made were destroyed, but most of the fruit trees made it. I guess in a way this makes it (emotionally) easier to sell, which is a blessing in it’s own way.

The family is a mess, if you can say it even exists at all.  I have tried to put the siblings back together, but some things cannot be unbroken. And so I accept that I am alone.  The cousins have been wonderful though, even though I have not had time to talk to them much.  But they are very loving and kind.  They are my last connection to you Dad and I want to keep those relationships going.  I plan to see them all this coming year.

Mom, I cannot believe it has been almost 2.5 years since you passed away. I don;t know how I have done all of this without you.  Accept I know you and God have been guiding me. I feel you so close sometimes, that I almost feel like I could reach out and touch you.  But I can’t. I wish you would visit me more in my dreams. And I love when you and Dad give me signs, like the rainbow yesterday.

As hard as it will be to finally sell the compound, I am looking forward to the closure.  You guys know how hard this has all been and how long it has taken to handle everything.  It is time for that closure and for me to live my life, finally free. I am planning where to go and what to do after it all settles down.  I am thinking of what I want life to be for me. I am not sure what it all looks like yet, but there is time.

The holidays (I think) will be easier this year than last.  Last year was rough. But that first year always is. I am ready for it now. And I am taking a friends advice…I am not making it about family, but about love and friendships and laughter and making good memories. I will be with friends who, I am learning, are our family of choice. I wonder if you ever spent a Christmas alone like I did last year, Mom. And I wonder was it hard for your too?  But this year is different.

I used to hate the idea of time passing without you guys. I still hate it, but I cannot change it, so instead I am learning to embrace it more.  I look forward to not being able to say “My Dad died last year.” Because it means that I am moving forward like I know you would want me to. Like I know that I have to. I know that the best way to honor you, and to honor God, is to find all the Joy that life can hold.  And I will.  I will make this life spectacular. All the while, never forgetting that it is your blood that flows through my veins, my beautiful, beautiful parents.

I am going to decorate for Christmas like crazy this year. Two Christmas trees and ALL of the decorations. I will sit and be warm in the glow of everything Christmas and feel close to you both. I will not only embrace the holidays, I will choose to flourish and be  love. And if I don’t have family around, then I will make my own world with all of my friends I love and who love me the most. Life can never be the same, but I can choose to make a life where I am happy and loved.  If we write our own lives, then I can do that. If I don’t feel like I fit in or belong, then I will create my own world where I do.

I still listen to your voicemails, and they make me smile. I never want to forget the sound of your voices. Please keep watching over me and guiding me. And I hope that I make you proud. I have tried very hard to have Grace, but still be tough when needed. It can be a hard balance sometimes. Somehow both of you mastered it, and I hope to one day as well.

I hope you guys are happy where ever you are. And I often wonder, when I look at the moon, if you see it too from your view? Or are you magnificent stars, seeing the moon for yourself? Do you get to see the world, like you always wanted, traveling a new wavelength we cannot yet understand here on Earth? If so, I bet it is spectacular. Or, are you angels, helping just like you did here, just in a different way?

Know that I love you so very much, more than words can say. I honestly don;t know if I love you or miss you more? I carry you with me always. ee cummings said it best. Love you guys, always.

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

my heart)i am never without it(anywhere

i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done

by only me is your doing,my darling)

                                                      i fear

no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)

and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

 

 

 

Happy Father’s Day Dad

Hi Dad, it’s me.  I love and miss you eery single day. More than I can every express, I miss you.  And I think about all the things you taught me, from fishing, to how to fix my car, to how to know how a man should treat me, by how you would treat Mom.

Miss you voice, your hands, your advice, your smile your funny one-liners, your gentle advice.  I miss eating hot dogs with you at lunch, and sharing an N/A beer with you at dinner.  I miss sharing boiled peanuts with you, and watching the news with you too. I miss so many things about you. I just miss you.

Thank you for being the best father in the world to me.  Please hug Mom for me too.  And please visit me in my dreams.

I publish this every year in honor of my father:

My Dad is like one of those men from the old movies. The hero. A man of few words rides into town, stands up for what he believes in, and touches everyone around him.

He leads by example: Loyalty, honesty and spirituality. Always keep your word. Hold family close and God Closer.

My Dad has worked very hard to make a business and a reputation many would envy. He’s worked hard to give his family the kind of life and opportunities where we would want for nothing. He has integrity and honor, and those are not easy qualities to find these days.

He has been a wonderful example of a man, a father and a human being. From quietly asking mom about our dates to sharing boiled peanuts and beer, to watching thunderstorms and lighting with us. To teaching me how to sing silly songs, teaching me why it’s important to watch the news and be aware of the world in which you live.

He has taught me so many things about life, just by example. And he is the best father a girl could ever hope to have. I have so many wonderful memories of him growing up, and as an adult. Like him, try to read fairy tails to me and mispronouncing the names – like “Ra-pun-zel”, or reciting the bedtime story of “Once upon a time, a deer drank wine…” To holding me while I sobbed when I thought my mother was dying, to our first father daughter dinner when I was a teenager.

Then the is “Piddles Jumping Spunker” and Chief Beer Fetcher in Charge (CBFC), can’t forget being the Cowstail, or all the lessons on the bottom shelf.  There were all the times he, as a typical protective father, scared any young man who came to the door to pick his daughter up for a date.  There was the one time he tried to teach me how to drive, and both of us returned scared and barely speaking.

There is the time I ran over the water pump with the riding lawn mower and he had to fix it (the pump not the mower) and all the things I accidentally busted, broke r short circuited around the house. To all the conversations we may have on the phone now, however short, whatever the topic, are always treasured.

There is hearing all the stories of his youth, and when he blew up the river bed with dynamite, and how he hid an alarm clock taped to one of his teachers desks at school.  To his trips at Oscars Br in NYC, to all the slides and stories of when he would dive and was a dive master.  To all the amazing things he has designed in his career, and last year, I went to the Smithsonian and finally saw, up close, the missiles he designed.

He taught me how to change the oil in my car, how to rotate my own tires, change the break pads and calipers, check the spark plugs (when cars actually had spark plugs). I remember going out to dinner with him, and how he opened my doors for me, pulled out my chair, found out what I wanted to eat and ordered for me. Always wanting to make sure that I was happy.

I will always love his voice, his hands, the way he smells and his little smile. Yes, I will always love my Daddy. The first man to make me feel safe and secure, the man who has always been the example of how a man should treat a woman, and how I should expect a man to treat me.

And he gave me the best Christmas present I have ever been given. One he hand made a wonderful case for my Barbie Dolls, complete with a little mirror for them, a place to hang all their little clothes, and he even hand made these little wire hangers for all their clothes to hang. I still have it and it is one of my most cherished possessions.

For these and so many reasons, too many to list, I am proud to call Jim Burch my Dad. If I could have looked out and chosen who my father would be, I would have chosen you.

Love you Dad. Happy Father’s Day.

A Walk with Dad: The Last Day

The hospice nurse came in early the next morning to examine Dad.  He held his stethoscope to Dad’s abdomen and listened.  I held my breath and asked if he heard anything. he said No.  I quietly said I know what that means.  The nurse, Terry, seemed relieved that I knew, because he did not want to tell me.  The other nurse came in too. After they both talked and reviewed everything they told me what I already knew, that Dad had maybe 24 hours left.When there are no more sounds in the abdomen, the body is shutting down. The kidneys, liver and intestines are shutting down.

I called everyone to let them know . Then I tried to get in touch with my closets sister. I sent test messages, emails, emails to he sons and husband…but heard nothing back.  I had no idea if she got the messages, if she believed me, if she was going to be there or skip out like she did with mom.  I was terrified that I would have to go through Dad’s death alone.  One of my best friends told me that no matter what, if my sister didn’t come, she would be there.  I would not have to go through this alone. She would hold my hand as I held Dad’s.

I told my ex that he needed to get there if he wanted to see Dad and say goodbye.  And he also tried to get a hold of my sister for me as well, calling her and her sons, and emailing as well.  I can’t say many good things about the ex, but I was frantic trying to find my sister to let her know.  And I appreciated his help.  I didn’t know if she would show up, but if she didn’t, I had to know that I did everything to let her know.  No matter what, I would have a clear conscience.

She did get one of the messages and said she was coming and bringing her family to say goodbye.  I knew Dad would be happy.  Even when a patient is not conscience, they can hear, they know who is around them and what is going on.  Dad would know he was surrounded by those he loved most – his children and grandchildren.

The staff and I met everyone before they went in and explained Dad’s condition. None of them had ever seen anyone like that, and I knew how terrible it would be.  But even when someone warns you, you are still never prepared.  They were so upset, and were crying even before they went on to see him. It broke my heart to see them like that.

We went in and the next few hours was spent crying, praying taking, laughing, saying goodbye. One of my best friends had come to say goodbye and make sure that I was OK. My ex had come to say goodbye, but left to go meet a prostitute names Pearl Prime after he got an email from her. A man from Hospice came for music therapy. O never knew how comforting it would be, until this kind man sat quietly and played his guitar softly for us. His compassion was tangible and he played beautifully.

A priest came to give Dad Last Rites, and the man from Hospice played Ava Maria, which was Dad’s favorite. It was beautiful and I cried. My best friend and my nephews left after that.  To my surprise my sister stayed and stated she was not leaving.  I was beyond thankful.  I wasn’t sure if I could do it alone. I thanks God for answering  my prayer that she would be there.

And so they left and it was just the four of us – Me, my sister, Dad and the continuous care nurse. She had been there since early that morning. A continuous care nurse is a beautiful service Hospice provides. It is a nurse whose entire purpose s only to take care of the patient, no matter who else is in the room.  They stay with the patient 24/7, until they pass.  They make sure they are comfortable, and have everything that they need.  But it is more than that. This nurse was there  only to tend to Dad. She made sure he was more than comfortable, she made sure he was peaceful. The staff at the assisted living facility were amazing. They checked in on Dad and also us, making sure we had everything we needed – Did we need food?  Or anything to rink?  Would we like some hot tea or coffee?

And so it was, My sister and I stayed with Dad, held his hand, told our favorite stories, I sung to Dad, and told him I loved him. And his breathing slowly became less and less…until…it was his last at 2:55am.

It was beautiful and he was peaceful. He actually had an almost smile on his face. He was surrounded by love. And Mom took him across, I am sure of it. He passed away on Ash Wednesday, his favorite day of the religious year.

I love you Dad. And I will miss you always.

 

A Walk with Dad: The Phantom

This day, Thursday, was a good day with Dad, though he was tired from all the activity from the day before.  Eating in the dining room, socializing and moving around so much just wore him out.  I went to see Dad around lunch and he had already eaten in his room.  The staff were wonderful about making sure he had what he needed.

The staff also made me aware that the first Hospice that we used was good, but was not doing everything needed.  So I had another Hospice assigned.  And they were amazing. They gave a thorough examination and made sure I had their numbers.  They had chaplain who came while I was there.  Dad, who was a man of few words, immediately trusted him and opened up.  Dad smiled and talked easily.

The chaplain had a way about him that put people at ease, myself in included.  And he said he would come back, when it could be just the two of them, and really talk to Dad and make sure that he did not have any emotional or spiritual issues with the situation.  He said he would talk to Dad about loosing Mom, about his children and family, about God and make sure Dad was a Peace. He said that he was there for Dad, in whatever he may need in that capacity. Dad smiled and said he was looking forward to seeing the chaplain again.

Dad was in good spirits that day, though tired. He was still also in a bit of pain from the fall earlier.  He also fell at the assisted living place, and that jared him a bit, so he was sore from that as well.  Dad was having trouble balancing and walking.  He would shuffle his feet and sometimes would not lift them up quite enough when stepping.

Dad was still able to eat by himself and wasn’t shaking as much.  When he first went into rehab back in December, he was so weak and shaking so badly that he could barely hold a fork or spoon to get food to his mouth.  It was heartbreaking and I took video of it him if I was accused of exaggerating Dad’s condition. But he was doing well in assisted living. He was easily fatigued but doing much better. And that day he was in good spirits, so that made me feel much better too.

I was excited because I was going to see Phantom of the Opera with some friends.  I had bought 3 tickets a month before, originally for my then boyfriend and father.  Dad had not seen a stage production in a long time, and this was a great one to take him to – the amazing costumes, the effects, the music…it would be perfect.  But he was too tired and the then boyfriend was now the ex. So my friends and I went instead.

We had a great time that night and it was a needed break.  Sometimes when dealing with difficult emotional situations, you need to be reminded that life exists outside of your current experience.  That life does exist, period.

 

A Walk with Dad

As I sit back enjoying a quiet evening after a hectic and long day, the memories flood back. This time last year with my father.  The thing about memories is that they are often not chronological.  They just come in sometimes random order, leaving you to figure out which ones came first and on what days.

I remember visiting my Dad every day while he was at the Hospice House.  The rooms there were set up to look like real bedrooms in real homes.  They even had a sliding glass door with a wonderful patio.  I remember looking out and wishing that it was warm so Dad could enjoy the warmer temperatures.  But this time last year, it was still freezing.  Looking back it seems like last winter started in October and lasted until mid April.  Dad was miserable when it was cold.

I would stay and talk with him until he was tired and wanted to go to sleep.  Only then would I leave.  And we laughed and just talked. I would tell him about my day, about work, about things in general. And sometimes we didn’t way anything, we were just silent. He was tired often, and talking, thinking and keeping up with the conversation would take all of his energy. I went to leave, and I hugged him and told him I loved him like I always did.  And he looked at me and thanked me for everything that I had done for him…because I was the only child that would be there for him and do these things.  It broke my heart.  He was so sad when he said it.

I know he wanted so bad for my other sister to be there, but no one could fine her or get a hold of her. She had refused to help, then just disappeared, and no one knew why or how to reach  her. So we just thought she changed her number, since all we got was a recording when we tried to call.  I didn’t know what to tell Dad…what do you say when a number is disconnected and no one hears from that person?  What do you say when emails, phone calls, text messages, get bounced back when they have said they have no time or interest in helping?

And I desperately wanted my sister too.  I didn’t know what to do, or how.  We had lost Mom so soon before, how could I handle loosing Dad? But we are often stronger than we realize. There was no way to even tell her that Dad was in Hospice, or that his treatments had stopped and we did not know how long he had left.  And even if I did tell her, would she dismiss it like she had before and just told me that I was exaggerating, like she said about when I told her mom was sick?

The creepy ex had left, and I was devastated. Then trying to be there for Dad, talking to nurses, Hospice staff, making arrangements and getting all the legal things in order for the assisted living facility. And all the medical records and coordinations between the assisted living and Hospice. Trying to keep all the family – Dad’s siblings, cousins, my siblings and his childhood, high school, college and other friends updated. Oh, yes and still working a regular job,, though they were being incredibly understanding of my situation. I was crying all the time.  I wasn’t eating or sleeping. I was exhausted and distraught.  There was no one to help and I desperately needed help and advice, I needed a shoulder.  My friends called and did what they could. But I was just lost.  And I felt so very alone

And that had to be nothing compared to what Dad was feeling and going through. I can’t even imagine. He was a good and honorable man, he worked hard, he loved my mother and was a wonderful husband. He was my hero.

And so I loved sitting with him, talking with him, eating those boiled peanuts, fixing up his room. And when he got to the assisted living place, his room was lovely, with all of his favorite things.  And I left a little not on his pillow, letting him know that I had to be at work, but that I would there later…and in the meantime, there were boiled peanuts and his favorite beer in the fridge.

And I made sure he was Ok there, and almost spent the night with him that first night.  But I was exhausted, and needed to try to sleep.  Plus, the staff was checking on him every hour at night.  I kissed him goodnight and hugged him so tight that first night as assisted living. I was both relieved and scared.  I prayed he would be OK, and not feel lonely.

The next day I was there and he was still very tired as the moved the day before had taken a lot out of him.  But I went and talked to him and laughed and made sure he was OK.  I talked with the staff and nurses, they were looking after him well.  They we checking on him, making sure he ate, helping him shower and get around, as he was still unsteady.  That was on Tuesday.

Wednesday the 22nd I went and we had dinner or lunch together (can’t remember which).  But I remember wheeling him down to the dining area and we ate. The food was good, and we enjoyed the conversation. Afterward we listened as a few of the other members who stayed there played the piano. He loved it, and for the first time in a while, I saw him smile and his eyes dance.

It was a warmish day and so I took him outside for a little while.  The grounds were lovely, and there was a little patio with chairs and a little garden at the end of the hall, which was one door down, from his apartment. We sat out there are talked a bit before I wheeled him around the grounds.  Everyone was do friendly, and I think that maybe for a brief minute, he wanted to feel better so he could enjoy where he was living. There was a cool breeze that felt c=good to me, but gave him a chill.  So we went back to his room and sat and talked for a bit.  He was soon tired and ready for a nap. I hugged him tight and left for the evening. And as always, told him I loved him so very much before I left.

I still love you so much Dad. I know you wanted to be to home, but you were trying to enjoy where you were.  They took such great care of you, better than I could have honestly.  I am thankful for that day and that time together.

 

 

 

Hi Dad, it’s Me

I found one of your cards today, one of the ones you left for me to find. Somehow, I always find them right when I need them. I guess you are just magic like that.

Your 1st year anniversary is coming up soon. I know it will be a hard day. There are so many difficult memories this month.

I didn’t know how I was going to make it after you passed. I knew I would, just didn’t know how. Or when. Those were some dark and sad days. And I was feeling mighty low.

You never get over losing your parents, but I think you would be proud of the progress I have made. It has been a long time. And so much hard work. I hope that you would be proud.

I miss you. I miss your voice. I miss you hugs. I miss eating boiled peanuts with you. And I miss you sharing your thoughts on what mattered. I miss your laugh and your one-line zingers and your quiet sense of humor.

I love you so much. Thank you for the card today.

The House of Love

We all have dreams, goals, and work hard to have the life that we want, the life that we envision for ourselves. It has been a challenge for me to figure out what I want my life to be and look like with all the recent changes. But reshaping my life is part of healing and moving forward. 

One thing is for sure, when we decide what it is we want our life to be, and how to serve our purpose, then we must work hard to make it happen. Just like a house takes effort to build, so does our life, one brick at a time. 

And while I may not have all the details worked out yet, I know what I want my life to be: Love. I want a life so full of love that it encompasses everything. I want a life where love is so present that it is tangible. 

And that kind of love can only come from God. He is the source, and I am the vessel. So I must the willing for Him to work through me in order to have that kind of love, to be that kind of love. 

My mother knew this and prayed every day to be what was needed, to be the vessel that God needed her to be. And Dad followed suit. And their love goes on, even now. Over the weekend I was missing them so deeply. I asked them to please send me a sign, something only for me, that I would know. And they delivered, with love.

My mother gave me her sign in one of her usual ways, the sky. On the way back from seeing friends, I looked up and saw a cloud plainly in the shape of an “M.” That was Mom’s signature on many of her notes. So I knew that was from her. And I smiled. Dad’s sign, of course required a little more work.

His sign came as a dream about a boat in a bad storm. My family was trying to save everyone and the boat. My father called me on my cell and told me that the damage was bad, but could be fixed. Knowing the storm was dangerous, I asked where he was so I could help him off the boat. “I’m on the cheek,” Dad replied. I thought for sure he misspoke. “You mean the deck?” “No,” he corrected, “the cheek.”

The dream was very vivid, and I awoke wondering what the cheek of a boat was. Google to the rescue. Usually associated with gaff masts, the cheeks are knee shaped pieces of wood either side of the mast at the hounds which carry the trestle tree and the eyes in the end of the shrouds. They are also used around the keel. In short, they are the support and without them the boat would go off course. I solved Dad’s riddle and figured out his message is that he and Mom would still be my support when needed. What wonderful messages of love. 

And so it goes. If we write our life, then love is the story I want it to be.  I move forward with the intent of love. Love will be my motivation. There will be meditations of love and healing, which must be done to make things within me whole again. There will be prayers for inner peace. 

 I will build this life, step by step, one heartbeat at a time, with love. This beautiful house needs the sounds of friends, family, laughter and love in it. And so I will fill it with these.

I have often said that that which brings you love, will bring you peace. That what brings you Peace will bring you happiness. 

Most think that a life of love is easy, but it’s not. It takes a lot of work to have love, peace and happiness. And by that I mean that you have to set your intentions every day to be your best, to pray and love God, to be willing to be a vessel of His love, even when it’s not easy. You must set the intention every day, and then at some point it becomes a habit, and a habit becomes a way of life. 

You must also work to protect your love and intention in your life. So many times we can get sidetracked by others and their drama or their path when it is not meant for us. It doesn’t make those people bad, we just have to be picky with whom we choose to have at our table. Those who would be destructive or detrimental to our journey must not be allowed to stay. I used to wonder why my mother would not let some people close to us, and now I see that in her wisdom, she recognized those who would disrupt our life. This ability is needed to provide continuity in our lives if we are to keep love and peace at the helm.

And so begins this journey. I am still grieving, still figuring things out, still finding solid ground in which to grow roots. But I think that love is a good foundation. And all love originates from God. And so I pray.  

James Burch Obituary

James (Jim) Lamar Burch was a man of few words, but was known for his quick wit and one-line zingers. Even more so, he was known for his love of God, his country and his family. Most notably, Jim was known for his love and devotion to Geneva (Genny), his wife of 49 years until her passing in July 2016.

Jim was born September 2, 1936, in Jasper, FL, to James Oswald Burch and Martha Agnes Green. He graduated from the University of Florida in 1959 with a Bachelor’s degree in Mechanical Engineering. He also earned an Electrical and Communications certificate from Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute in New York.

In 1958, he married Byrne Booth with whom he had three children – Carie Burch Quigley, Pleasant Hill, NY; James Oswald Burch, II, Wilmington, NC; and Boots Burch Quimbey, Bethesda, MD.

From 1959 to 1963 Jim served in the Air Force Reserves and was a certified value engineer in the U.S. Naval Facilities Engineering Command. Jim was employed at the Department of Defense in Washington, D.C., where he worked on the Nike Zues and Atlas projects designing ballistic missiles. He also designed phone systems for The White House.

He later married Genny and they had two daughters, Rita Lynn, Marietta, GA, and Ada Lamar, Dunwoody, GA. Jim and Genny also fostered 63 children.

In 1969, Jim and Genny moved to Ontario, Canada, where he was an electrical controls engineer at the Atomic Energy of Canada.

He also worked for several other companies, including AT&T,  Martin Orlando, Miller Brewing Company and Kun-Young Chiu & Associates. Jim and Genny moved from Wauchula, FL, to Valdosta, GA, in 1985 where they were members of St. Barnabas Episcopal Church. Jim partnered with Ed Locke to start an engineering firm, AEC in 1990.

Jim loved classical music, WWII history, beer, and hot dogs.

In 2001, Jim and Genny moved to Donalsonville, GA where they built their dream home and lived their last years enjoying gardening and fishing. Following Genny’s passing, Jim moved to the Atlanta, GA, metro area where he was cared for by his daughter Ada and a dear family friend Michael Mulé.

On March 1, 2017, Jim reunited with Genny in heaven after succumbing to a long illness.

He is preceded in death by his parents, his brothers Brent, and Billy and his sister Margaret. In addition to his children, he leaves to cherish his life nine grandchildren – Patrick, William, Karl, Coleman, James III, Tyler, Allen, Thomas, and Brian; two great grandchildren, Finely and Bexley; sisters Lena Mae and Nelma, and a host of extended family members and friends.

A memorial service will be held Saturday,  March 11 at 1:pm at St Barnabas church, 3565 Bemiss Rd, Valdosta, GA 31605. Celebration of life will immediately follow at Park Place, 2215 N Patterson Street, Valdosta, GA.

When Superman is Human

I have always said that my Dad is like Superman. He is my hero.  He has always been the strong silent type; a man of few words that came in and did the right thing and lead by example.

When Superman is Human

But then there comes a day when you look and see that Superman is really human, a mortal, and can die.  That he isn’t going to live forever.

And being the caretaker of someone with a terminal illness is not for the faint of heart.  And there are many times where you have to decide to laugh or cry…and most of the time I choose to laugh.  I have long said my life is like a sitcom – or dramedy, depending on which moment you may catch.  These moments are no exception….

Before my father went into the hospital the last time for his ammonia levels being too high, he was very confused and acted like someone who has severe dementia (a symptom of too much ammonia in the body and affecting his brain).  My father gets cold very easy so I bought him some special thermals for Christmas, called base wear, which are for people who go on exhibitions in the tundra.  We were all getting ready to go to brunch one Sunday when he came out ready to go. And he had on these very tight fitting base wear thermals. After getting over the initial shock and panic, I remember thinking that all he needed was a cape and a giant “G” on his shirt (G for Geriatric-Man).  Never one to miss a detail, he even found a place for his wallet in his tight new outfit.  He had figured out that the thermal bottoms were tight enough that he could place his wallet inside the “pants” midway between his knee and hip. After gently explaining that his thermal underwear was called such because they were not appropriate for outerwear, he reluctantly changed into real clothes.

Another time was after he had been admitted to the hospital. When the patient is in a confused state as was he, they ask if a family member can stay with them at all times in the room to make sure that they are OK in between nurse visits.  The only time my father is more miserable than in the dentist’s chair is in the hospital.  And he did not really understand why he was in there in the first place, but he knew he was going to get out. At least get out of the bed anyway. Several times during the first few days and nights I caught him in various positions and steps of “escape.” One time in particular I woke up to see him, lying on his side, pulled up hanging onto the side bar of the hospital bed, with his leg going over the bar.  I caught him juuuuuust as that leg was being flung over.  The look on his face was one of serious concentration.  He knew what he had to do, and being a detailed professional electrical engineer, no doubt he had thought about it and planned it all out.

“Dad!  What are you doing?!”

You could see his expression change from concentration to “Crap, foiled again.”  He let out a sigh and the leg went back on the proper side of the bar as he stated to settle back down.

The image of that moment will live with me forever.  And had I had a camera. I would have snapped his picture and captioned it “The Escape.”  Both moments reminded me of Cloris Leachman’s character on Raising Hope.  She plays the adorable, but slightly deranged and kooky, grandmother.  Sometimes she comes out with her bra over her clothes, sometimes she tried to eat mashed potatoes through a straw.

What I have learned in the 7 months of being a care taker, is that you have to have a sense of humor. You have to be willing to take a step back and laugh when the smoke clears.  Because some of these moments are brilliantly comedic, once you get over them. And if you don’t laugh, you will go crazy. So take a breath, then take a step back and have a giggle.

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Editor’s Note:  I don’t talk about this often (publicly), but my mother basically died from medical negligence. There were several issues that were ignored by her GP and instead of treating her, he actually said to her “You are just an old woman, and all this is part of getting old.” By the time we truly found out the extent of her health issues and how long they had been ignored, it was too late. Now, it is a blessing and a gift to see my father get such amazing care and attention to every detail of his physical, emotional, spiritual and mental well being. The doctors at Emory are the best (Anywhere). I often wonder if my mother would still be with us if she had the same experience. We are blessed to have such great care now.

Season of Thoughts

To Wear it well

We must let go of the life that we planned so as to accept the life that is waiting for us. – Joseph Campbell

This is the time of year of festivities. Parties, gifts and resolutions.  And it is usually about this time of year that in addition to enjoying all that this happy season will bring, I start thinking about what I want to accomplish next year.

Most of the time, the things on my list are the usual:  Travel more, spend less, smile more, loose that 10 lbs that has been on my hips for the last 5 years. For this next year though it is quite different.  My goal for next year is quite simple: To wear it well.

I want simple things to not take so much energy.  Things like putting on my pants, going through daily routines…breathing.  To put it quite simply – grief is bitch.  Grief is like that bad roommate you can’t get rid of.

But the fact is that Grief will be with me for quite a while. So I must learn to wear it well.

What exactly does that mean?  It means that You hold your head high, smile anyway and get on with it.  It doesn’t mean you still don’t feel it in every part of every bone, you just don’t let it wear you, you wear it. Right now, I feel like Grief is cutting off circulation, because it is a very ill-fitting outfit that is tight in all the wrong places and loose in all the wrong spots.

From all the research I have done, grief never really leaves you. So I have to learn to wear it well. And defiantly better than I have.

Ultimately, I would like to make this grief a place from where love can grow and prosper.  I would like to make it a beautiful garden of compassion and goodness. I want to do more than wear it well; if it has to be with me for my life, then I want it to make me a better person. I just don’t know how to get there yet.

Grief can be the garden of compassion. If you keep your heart open through everything, your pain can become your greatest ally in your life’s search for love and wisdom. – Rumi

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The Smell of It

As a parent, it’s my responsibility to equip my child to do this – to grieve when grief is necessary and to realize that life is still profoundly beautiful and worth living despite the fact that we inevitably lose one another and that life ends, and we don’t know what happens after death. –  Sam Harris

It is funny the things that you miss.  And as cliché as it sounds, the laundry smelled so good when Mom did it. I never thought I would miss that smell so much. I cherish anything I find of her original laundry.   And I finally found out her secret.  I found her stash of fabric softener and smell good stuff.  The one problem?

I cannot find it in any stores here in the Atlanta area.  Seriously…in a city of millions…I can’t locate any of it.  Dad and I are both searching for it.  Where did she get this stuff?  Did she ship it in from another country?  Or planet?  Because this stuff smells like Love.

It is somewhere, and somehow I will find it and get as many bottles of it as possible.  Love in a bottle cannot be overrated, neither can the magical smell of laundry.

Always bear in mind that your own resolution to succeed is more important than any other. – Abraham Lincoln

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Hard Candy Christmas

Grief is in two parts. The first is loss. The second is the remaking of life. – Anne Roiphe

Tis the season for all the holiday festivities. It is also a very bad time for those who are grieving the loss of a loved one.  And while the grief cannot be fixed or erased, we can, if we choose, still find the beauty in every day.  We can, if we choose, appreciate the happiness and joy around us, and maybe even have some of it seep in.

And so it goes this holiday season.  The Christmas tree is going up this weekend.  A big real tree.  I’ve never had a real Christmas tree but have been told that they smell wonderful.  And there will be Christmas music and carols.  And lots of Christmas lights.  We are going to see a large light display, complete with hot chocolate and roasting marshmallows by a fire afterward. The house will have a lot of Christmas decorations, some old that have been passed down to me, and some new.

This Christmas will be hard, and that cannot be changed.  It cannot be fixed.  But. But, we do not have to drown in it either.  We can still smile through tears, celebrate through grief and see joy in the world. A broken heart still beats. The world still turns and life goes on.

So, bring on the eggnog, Christmas carols and fires.  Let’s light the house up with Christmas displays.  Let the stockings be hung, the dancing Santa’s dance and the angels sing.  No doubt my mother is one of those angels now.  May we hear her voice this Christmas, and all others to come.

I think faith is incredibly important because you will become overwhelmed with what’s happening and you will have waves of grief, but when you turn to your faith, I believe God will give you waves of grace to get through it. – Joel Osteen

 

Symphonies for Us

We all need to experience new things, or even old things that we have not experienced in many years that gave us joy. As adults, we need to have fun, enjoy life even in tough times, especially in tough times.  Friday my father and I went on a Father-daughter date to the symphony.  He loves classical music, and one of his favorites was playing.  I had never been to the symphony and looked very much forward to the first experience.

I love the fact that I will be able to say that the first time going to the symphony was with my Dad.  He was very excited, as was I.  We left in plenty of time for traffic (which for Atlanta is at least an hour with some extra padding).  Upon arrival we noticed quite a crowd.  Each part of the art center had functions, and Atlanta loves the arts.  We were seated in the main orchestra section close enough to see everything.  We even met a very nice lady who gave us tips on the best places to sit depending on what we wanted to see the most.

And then the music started.  Wow.  As many live music shows as I have been to, I have to say that there is nothing like the symphony.  To not only hear the music, but to see and notice the nuances as the instruments are played is amazing.  You are carried away by the violins, then the cellos…then you notice that the flutes are being played, when you had not noticed their subtle under tones before…and a whole new world is opened in that piece of music.

We were both lost in the music while the orchestra played, both fascinated by the way the conductor led the members, and both carried away to another place and time.  Wonderful memories.  And no doubt there will be more symphonies for us, as looked online to see what our next musical adventure.

 

Father Daughter Date

Tonight will be a great night. It is something my father and I have been looking forward to for quite a while.  Dad loves classical music, so when I saw this event, I knew we had to go.  Dvořák’s popular “From the New World” Symphony is one of his absolute favorites, and it has been a long time since he has been to the symphony.

Tonight is Father Daughter Date night.  We will go to Casual Friday’s at the Atlanta Symphony, enjoy some great music, then have a nice bite somewhere tasty.  Truly good quality time together, he and I.  A treat to celebrate a bit of life, something good at the end of the tunnel and the start of maybe a new tradition.

The holidays are approaching, and the symphony has many concerts for the season.  But tonight is the first. Something I will no doubt cherish for a long time.

The Wonder They Hold

Sometimes we find ourselves in interesting places while trying to get back into the rhythm of life. This is where I find myself.  Three months after Mom’s passing, which still seems so surreal, we are all starting to get into the rhythm of forward movement.

In many ways is it the land of Almost (Which I wrote about here). I say almost, because I am not there yet.  But it feels like the brim of many things.  I am almost back into life, almost feeling like myself, almost back  into the swing of things.  We are almost unpacked, almost settled, and I almost know what I am doing. At work I am almost done with a few projects, my clothes almost match, and I almost feel like I look like I have it almost together.

It is peculiar, this place.  No longer there, but not quite at the other. It is better, as I come out of the darkness. I almost have a routine, and it feels good.  Get up, make coffee for Dad, discuss what is going on for the day.  At lunch it is either running a quick errand, eating at my desk or running home for lunch. After work is maybe going to the store for ingredients, then cooking, a little clean up and spending time with talking with my boyfriend about the day.  Still have to finish unpacking and figure out things like when to work out or watch TV.

A return to the routine after months of holding on, letting go and breathing out. The bittersweet relief of normal.  I look pictures of my mother, noticing her features as I inspect my own in the mirror.  There are enough similarities that I know I can do this. And I sleep warmly under a blanket which she picked.  She and God equipped me with all that is needed, and she loved me enough for a lifetime. Soon it will no longer be Almost…soon it will be a rhythm of life and love and hope and all the wonder that they hold.

And Then it Was Two

Someone asked how Dad and I were doing today. This day, the 2^nd month anniversary of Mom’s death. Two Months.  One can live a lifetime in two months.

Most of that day is a blur to me.  I remember parts and pieces.  I remember painting Mom’s fingernails and gently brushing her hair the night before, and that morning.  I remember gently talking to her about how much I loved her and about my favorite childhood memories.  Like the Alfonso’s break dancing kit gift debacle.  And when she read Little House on the Prairie book series to me.  And when she would brush and fix my hair in the morning when I was a child.  When she taught me all those childhood songs that I still remember, how she decorated my bedroom when I was a teenager and made it seafoam green…and how I really did not appreciate that as much as I should have.  How she sat with me through each and every heartache and break up.  And teaching me how to cook and make her famous milk sausage gravy…and so many memories.

I remember how I held her hand and watched her breathing get more and more shallow.  Even when you know it’s coming, you are never prepared to see someone take their last breath.  And I remember the lights flickering three times after I said “I love you…”

And then there was talking to everyone, making arrangements. Making decisions and taking care of everything. I know it happened, and I was the one to do those things, but I really don’t remember.

Grief is not as I expected.  I thought it would be a huge brick in the pit of my stomach.  But it’s not.  It is more like an acute awareness that she is not here.  It is the extreme knowledge of the Last time I felt her arms around me. It is the silence of her absence. And it is deafening.

But my answer to my dear friend who asked was simply – We are getting better at moving forward.

Because we are. Every day we get better at honoring her by creating something beautiful.  We live for her to look down and smile.  We pray for God to hold  us – and her – in his big hands. We hold our breath for the signs and whispers.  We look up and feel the sun, see the clouds, celebrate the rainbows, feel the rain and notice the magnificence of the world. A life beautiful through honoring her, her memory, how she wanted us and raised us to be. A life beautiful by creating a safe, peaceful space that is a sacred sanctuary, protected and kept close.

We move forward by honoring her memory and being true to ourselves and those we love.  We continue forward with the move to the new house, and creating something special.  We weave together the fabric of this life with every heartbeat.

This Father’s Day

I wrote this about my Dad several years ago. It describes how I see him and the man he is. Every Father’s Day I post it on several sights. It’s a few days late this year, things were busy and I did not make it to the computer to post.

He is doing much better now, My father. He is feeling good, more energy than he has had a quite a while, and is in very good spirits. He was s out working quite a bit this weekend, enjoying being with his family, laughing, kissing Mom and the cheek, saying those funny one liners with his incredible dry sense of humor. So here is my Father’s Day tribute to my Dad:

My Dad is like one of those men from the old movies.  The hero.  A man of few words rides into town, stands up for what he believes in, and touches everyone around him.

He leads by example:  Loyalty, honesty and spirituality.  Always keep your word.  Hold family close and God Closer.

My Dad has worked very hard to make a business and a reputation many would envy.  He’s worked hard to give his family the kind of life and opportunities where we would want for nothing.  He has integrity and honor, and those are not easy qualities to find these days.

He has been a wonderful example of a man, a father and a human being.  From quietly asking mom about our dates to sharing boiled peanuts and beer, to watching thunderstorms and lighting with us.

He has taught me so many things about life, just by example.  And he is the best father a girl could ever hope to have. I have so many wonderful memories of him growing up, and as an adult.  Like him, try to read fairy tails to me and mispronouncing the names – like “Ra-pun-zel”, or reciting the bedtime story of “Once upon a time, a deer drank wine…”

Then the is “Piddles Jumping Spunker” and Chief Beer Fetcher in Charge (CBFC), can’t forget being the Cowstail, or all the lessons on the bottom shelf.

He taught me how to change the oil in my car, how to rotate my own tires, change the break pads and calipers, check the spark plugs (when cars actually had spark plugs). I remember going out to dinner with him, and how he opened my doors for me, pulled out my chair, found out what I wanted to eat and ordered for me. Always wanting to make sure that I was happy.

I will always love his voice, his hands, the way he smells and his little smile. Yes, I will always love my Daddy. The first man to make me feel safe and secure, the man who has always been the example of how a man should treat a woman, and how I should expect a man to treat me.

And he gave me the best Christmas present I have ever been given. One he hand made a wonderful case for my Barbie Dolls, complete with a little mirror for them, a place to hang all their little clothes, and he even hand made these little wire hangers for all their clothes to hang. I still have it and it is one of my most cherished possessions.

For these and so many reasons, too many to list, I am proud to call Jim Burch my Dad.  If I could have looked out and chosen who my father would be, I would have chosen you.

Love you Dad.  Happy Father’s Day.

October Sky

There are very few movies that make me cry, cheer and talk to the TV. Last night I watched one of those movies. It is the story of 4 kids, 1 in particular, that became very unlikely heroes. It is not just a movie about following your dreams, it is a movie about the innocence of children and the power of not knowing what you can’t do so you just do amazing things out of ignorance and determination. The wonderful exuberance of the young. October Sky is the movie, and it is highly recommended.

Set in the 50’s and based on a true story, Homer Hickam lives in a small southern town where mining is all that people know. As the movie states, “Kids either get out with a football scholarship or the stay here and mine.” When the town looks up to see Sputnik pass over in the night sky, a dream is born. Young Homer is fascinated and soon makes creating rockets with his friends a very serious hobby. His group of friends reminds me of the group my sister had in college. As I watched the movie and saw the young ingenuity they had in creating and getting the materials to create their rockets, I thought back to my sister and her friends doing chemical and scientific experiments in our backyard. The kids in the movie blow up their parents fence, and had close calls with many rockets nearly hitting people, places and cars. Oops.

I also thought about the stories I have heard my father tell of the adventures he had with his friends in a small town. Stories like when he and his friends found a few sticks of un-used dynomite and thought it would be fun to see what it might do to a local creek bed – not knowing just how powerful of a blast it would be. Just the creative, curious mischief smart kids get into when they live in a small town. I also thought about how now, because of political correctness and such, much of that creativity would not be allowed today, and that thought made me quite sad. There are so many regulations and in many ways, I think, it is much harder for the young to be creative.

The story made me think of my father still because he is a rocket scientist and created a lot of the technology used in the space and missile programs during that time. I have yet to have a chance to ask him if he knew Homer Hickam (my guess is no since most of where Dad did his work was in DC, White Plains new York, and an island called Kwadjalein (Home of the U.S. Navy’s Pacific Missile Range (PMR), and Home to the U.S. Army’s Nike-Zeus Anti-Ballistic Missile (ABM) test facility.) My Father worked on the Nike Zeus (Nike Zeus photos and specs here), more cool stuff Dad worked on Here and More cool pics of where Dad was. My Dad was one of the engineers who worked on this, as well as other missile projects. It is now called the Ronald Reagan Ballistic Missile Defense test Site.

Nike Zeus

The movie also reminded me of my dear oldest nephew, with all of his robot building, technical drawings and dreams. Building new technology his hard, especially when you come from a small town where a lot of people think it is better to stay put than be curious about what might by over the next horizon. My mother, who grew up in a small town in Tennessee, described it as a longing to know what the rest of the world looks like. She got a plane at age 18 and went to Washington, D.C…her first time out of the state where she grew up.

The main characters feel that too, though it is not a popular position to take in this hometown. When the main character does leave town for a competition, no one can even find a suitcase. There are, of course, many hurdles to overcome – the mining mentality of the locals, his father thinking the rockets are stupid, the school principal thinking it’s stupid and even having the kids arrested at one point, and other naysayers. Eventually, this group of rag-tag heroes attract the attention and support of the town, as many people start coming to see the launches of their rockets. Many support and help these kids, as many times it truly takes a village…and a teacher, and a mother, and friends, and a few sneaky but creative ideas.

And mostly, the movie reminded me of never giving up on your dreams, even when you think they are impossible. My heart just broke for the main character when he accepts that it will never happen for him, and he is in the elevator about to go down into the mine, he looks up, and sees Sputnik pass overhead once again…and he keeps watching it as he is taken deeper into the earth. The expression on his face of “that will never be me” just made me cry. (Don’t worry, I did not just spoil the end).

Be young, follow your dreams no matter what anyone else says, don;t be afraid tp be laughed at, don’t listen to ridicule and don;t be afraid to do whatever it takes. As the teacher tells the main character – “Sometimes you can’t listen to anybody else says, you just gotta listen inside.” If you want to see a great inspirational movie, if you just need to feel good, or if you need some encouragement yourself, it is a great movie to see…amd the weekend is the perfect time.

 

 

Vegans R Us

We are a meat eating family. We devour every kind of steak, ribs, pork lion, hamburgers, pot roast, fried chicken, beef stew, Polynesian ham, pork chops and more. Basically if it has meat in it, we love it. This is how is has always been. Now my father has been diagnosed with severe liver disease. He can no longer eat meat or dairy products because his liver cannot process the protein.

Switching to a low protein diet is pretty common for those with liver disease but it is beyond a menu change, especially for a southern cooking family such as ours. We have always been a family of food as gathering around the dinner table has always been very important family time. It matters not how busy we are, we know that we can always gather around the table and enjoy a wonderful meal prepared by my incredible cook of a mother.

So when we learned of the new diet, it sent us all into a bit of a panic. If you are not familiar with Southern Cooks then you should know we are very proud of our culinary skills. Telling a southern cook not to use meat and dairy is like telling an Italian cook they can no longer use any type of pasta. Envision a room full of ladies hyperventilating in little paper bags. It’s just not a pretty.

So, being of the information age, the answer, of course, is research. Research, at least to me is comforting. There are answers in research, and with answers a girl can figure out a plan and what needs to be done. In researching a low/no protein, no diary  diet, I found that the Vegan diet seemed to fit the bill.  That’s the first step.

But tell that to a group of Southern cooks, you will get a lot of blank stares. It all sounds like a different language. So then comes the job of discovering the wide world of vegan recipes and cooking.

And they look very yummy – lot of healthy things like fresh ingredients, organic grown vegetables and fruits and vegetables.  The bottom line is, change can be scary. And it can be uncomfortable, but it can be very good. We are all not changing to vegans, but we will learn to prepare vegan food so when we all sit down to dinner together, we can share the same meal, and support the man who has supported us all of our lives.

When my father comes to visit later this month, I look forward to dazzling both he and my mother with delicious  recipes prepared with love. I have ordered several vegan cookbooks to share and we will become the Southern Vegan Cooking family for my Dad. And those of you who laugh because I always said Hell would freeze over before i cooked fru-fru sticks and twigs food should know that there is something stronger than Hell. And that is love.

Fathers Day

I wrote this aboiut my Dad seeral years ago. It describes how I see him and the man he is. Every Fsather’s Day I post it on several sights. It is a day late this year, things were busy and I did not make it to the computer to post.

He is doing much better now, My father. He is feeling good, more energy than he has had a quite a while, and is in very good spitrits. He was s out working quite a bit this weekend, enjoying being with his grandsons. So here is my Father’s Day tribute to my Dad.

My Dad is like one of those men from the old movies.  The hero.  A man of few words rides into town, stands up for what he believes in, and touches everyone around him.

He leads by example.  Loyalty, honesty and spirituality.  Always keep your word.  Hold family close and God Closer.

My Dad has worked very hard to make a business and a reputation many would envy.  He’s worked hard to give his family the kind of life and opportunities where they would want for nothing.  He has integrity and honor, and those are not easy qualities to find these days.

He has been a wonderful example of a man, a father and a human being.  From quietly asking mom about our dates to sharing boiled peanuts and beer.

For these and so many reasons, too many to list, I am proud to call Jim Burch my Dad.  If I could have looked out and chosen who my father would be, I would have chosen you.

Love you Dad.  Happy Father’s Day.

The Freakout Week

We all need it, especially after bad news. No, I am not talking about large amounts of alcohol and chocolate, though that may help. I mean what  my friends and I referre to as The Freak out Week. It is the week after you receive said news, and it is your time to completely freak out and be an emotional basket-case. You give your self permission to just be a shitty basket case.

If you want to be irritable, you are. If you want to spontaneously combust into tears at any given moment, you can. If you need to consume large amounts of alcohol and chocolate, you do. you talk, cry, eat, drink and cry. If you need to throw shoes across the room, you do. You are just a hot mess every moment during thisweek. And your friends are right there for you every step of the way. And that has defiantly been me.

And I am so thankful for my family and friend this past week, who have been there for me, having the difficult conversations and holding me while I cry. I am glad my sister was the one who told me and was there – when I woke her up at 2am one morning sobbing, scared and tired, with red eyes and tear stained cheeks, shaking, asking questions. I am thankful for her sleepy look, her kind re-assuring words, her being my rock in that moment. My dear, wonderful older sister, taking care of me as she often has in those dark moments of life.

The freak out week is not a pity party, but rather a way to get it all out of your system so to speak. And when that week is over, you can come back down to earth a calmer person, ready to handle what ever challenges come about. After my week of completely freaking out over my father’s health and possible prognosis, I feel much better and can move forward and be a rock for the family.

Looking back when my Mother was diagnosed with stage 4+ Ovarian Cancer, there was a freak out week as well. That week was much different though – Mom was in the hospital barely conscious due to all the medication, and I watched over her. I got about 2 hours of sleep that entire week and then drove back  up to Atlanta to shoot a commercial. The make up artist noticed the dark circles under my eyes and asked if I had been out partying all night. I just smiled and said, “Yes, something like that.” So in comparison, this week of freak out is going much better.

And you have to learn to laugh about these things. Humor keeps you sane in the midst of chaos. Faith keeps you grounded and your heart safe. I remember a wonderful friend of the family whose mother had been diagnosed with breast cancer and had a mastectomy. The first time I met her, he walked in the room, looked at her and said “I heard a joke today that was so funny it would knock your boobs off. Oh, I see you’ve heard it!” I froze in horror. How could he talk to his mother that way? She busted out in laughter and gave him a huge hug. Many years and two parents’ illnesses later, I now understand what he was doing.

And so it goes. And I wonder what the future will bring, for our family. I don’t know, but what I do know is that we are strong in faith and close in our hearts. And whatever happens, we will make it through, we will be there for each other and we will be OK. Even Dad, as Gods Will be done. He will give us the strength, courage and grace we need. If you are reading this and are a person of faith, please say a prayer.

The Homecoming

This week has been a hard one.  There are not too many things I thought might be worse than the idea of my father dying. That was not the case. We thought he had been having mini strokes. He was confused, uncoordinated, didn’t know how to do simple things. He went to a meeting and could not remember where the car was parked. He is a genius, sharper than a tack, brilliant. The idea that his mind was gone, that he was still lucid enough to know something was wrong but not know what it was.

My heart shattered a thousand different ways I never thought possible.

As it turns out it was something much less permanent and easily fixed. A thousand prayers heard and answered in a thousand different ways. And he came home tonight, released from the hospital, home in my mother’s arms.

While I am so very thankful,  this will easily go down as one of the hardest, most emotional, most difficult weeks of my life. Somehow it was the hardest week yet of his health scares. And I am thankful for my friends who have been there for me, while I cried this week, sick with worry and heartache.