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.

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 Phases of Christmas

There are different phases of grief, it is a process. And this year, this Christmas is a big milestone as far as that process goes.  The first holidays without loved ones are especially hard.  This entry is very raw and very vulnerable.  Honestly it makes me a bit uncomfortable, but if you are going to be honest and pour your heart out, then do it with purpose.  I am not the first to be here and I will not be the last.This is the end of this year, the end of all the loss and the end of the sadness. So, here it is, for anyone who might be going through the same:

Phase 1
I woke up for the first time in my life to an empty, quiet house on Christmas morning. I’m still not sure how to feel about that. I walked around and my Christmas lights were beautiful, the Christmas tree was beautiful, but it was so quiet. There was no one in the kitchen making breakfast for hungry eyes. There was no one inspecting the gifts under the tree. There was no Christmas music playing, or the sound of quiet conversation and laughter as people who got up early tried to be quiet and considerate of people who were still sleeping.

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How lucky I was and have been, to have had so many wonderful Christmases filled with family. And how many people wake up on Christmas morning alone, like me that morning?

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All the sudden I felt so much love for my mother. Every year from the time she had her first child at 27, until the Christmas right before she passed away when she was 74, she made an amazing home where everyone wanted to come and have Christmas morning. I thought of all the years that I woke up, ready to have breakfast and rip open presents. I thought of when I was a child and my sister and I had the tradition of getting up at 5am to play Monopoly until 6, and then would sneak out to see what was in our stockings, and then gently, carefully put everything back in our stockings. We would go back to play Monopoly again until 7am (when Mom and Dad said we could wake them up).

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And I remember even after I’d grown up and moved away, making sure that I was home for Christmas, driving sometimes on Christmas Eve then wrapping all the gifts when I got in. Most of the time Mom’s gifts had already been wrapped as she would have bought them months earlier. When I was young and broke, I could afford the gifts but not always the wrapping paper and accessories. So I would wait until I got home to raid Mom’s impressive wrapping paper, ribbon and bow collection.

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And wrapping was an art in our family. It wasn’t just wrapping a simple gift, no, it was trying to be mischievous and fool the receiver. A small box would be wrapped and then placed in a larger box and wrapped and placed in another larger box and wrapped again. There would be candy and buttons and things that make noise that would be placed in a box that held a book, so that when the gift with shaken, they would never know that it was just a book.

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For many years I was The unofficial photographer of Christmas morning. When everyone got up and started to unwrap the gifts. it was I who would capture it all. All the wonder, and happiness, and family togetherness, and laughter, and surprise, and delight, and love of Christmas morning.

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I wonder if my wonderful, sweet, brave mother ever spent a Christmas morning alone? If she had ever woken up on Christmas morning to an empty house? She came from a large family and so did Dad, so did she ever have that experience? She was married at 26, had children by 27. And did Dad ever wake up and spend a Christmas Eve or Christmas Day alone? It’s amazing how many questions you think of to ask your parents after they’re gone. Ask them now. I am acutely aware that they are gone. And I miss them so very much.

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I’m blessed to have friends who have become my family with whom to spend Christmas dinner. And even more who have extended wonderful invitations. Life is a balance of appreciating what is gone and accepting and being thankful for what is now.

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Phase 2

As I’m getting ready and going around the house, the memory of Last Christmas Creeps in. I was so sad and depressed… it was awful. I showered my Dad with as many gifts as I could possibly afford, getting him everything from new shoes to funny things for his cell phone, to clothes, to socks to everything I could possibly think of. I was trying desperately to make up for the fact that he was so miserable without Mom. I thought that maybe if I gave him enough gifts that he liked, I could make him smile an forget that he was miserable, if only for a second.

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I buzzed around smiling and being Jolly, but I think he knew. And I remember my ex, who was so completely disinterested, but who tried to pretend anyway. Looking back he was always on his cell phone, now I know it was talking with strippers and prostitutes even then. I lavished him with gifts too, trying to bury the guilt of having involved him in my ordeal of Mom dying and then having to live with my terminally ill father.

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I bought him a huge Craftsman tool box among other expensive things. Looking back I was trying to fill the terrible hold that grief had left inside of me by trying to make those in my life happy.  And trying to make up for the fact that life had imploded with death and being a full time caregiver. I thought that if I could give enough gifts, make enough people smile, try to make enough people happy, then maybe I could forget my grief for just a little while too. It didn’t work.

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And last year, after a delicious Christmas dinner, it was time to take Dad back to the rehab center. I picked him up that morning and had to have him back before midnight that night. It was miserable too because he wanted more than anything to just be home. It was heartbreaking to leave him there Christmas night. And even more heartbreaking to go back exhausted to the empty, loveless house that I called home.

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And that is why I even if I have sad moments now this Christmas, even when I shed tears and miss my parents so very much, I’m incredibly thankful that no Christmas will be as horrible as last year – hands down the worst holidays of my life. It is why I face this Christmas with an open heart and understand that there will be some heartbreak and that’s okay. Because last Christmas was the most heartbreaking Christmas of all, and I’m glad for all the opportunities for joy this year has given me. And I’m thankful for what the next year seems to hold. There’s been a lot of lost this year, but I’m still here. I still have the ability to love and to trust and to believe in people. And that in itself is a huge gift wrapped in a big bow.

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Phase 3

I realized that I had the hang of this. That I could do this. The Yule Log was playing with a pretty fire and Christmas music. The cats were running around with new toys. I heard from many family members and friends exchanging Christmas and holiday wishes. I was feeling lots of love. It still felt really weird and surreal as I looked at pictures of Mom and Dad and thought of Christmas in my childhood.

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Phase 4

Christmas dinner with at a friend’s house. There was rushing around to get everything  done and on the table at the same time.  There were people who loved me and who wanted me there.  And that felt really good.  It hurts to have my parents gone.  But I have found my roots, my family of choice.

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There is validation and vindication at the same time. It feels good to be back, to have made it through this huge emotional time.  It feels good to have it done, because I feared the unknown of the holidays.  I have lost both parents, three siblings, one boyfriend and all of his family in the past 18 months. And now I have gone through the first Christmas without any of them. And I made it. If I made it through the past 18 months, I can make it through anything.

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There is nothing more to dread. No more dates of the unknown, no more huge emotional triggers or timeframes.  New Years will be pretty easy – a celebration of saying goodbye to the bad, and saying hello to the wonderful happiness that is coming. I shed the skin of what has been and step into what will be.

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Then the next moment is the first anniversary for Dad.  But since I have been through it with mom, I know what to expect.  That anniversary won’t be easy, but ti also won’t be the unknown.  I know what I am facing, head on. And I have the love of my friends and that love will build this life strong and good and lasting.

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Phase 5

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I did it. I made it through Christmas without you.

There were some tough and lonely moments, but I am blessed to have amazing friends that got me through. There was also joy and celebration. You guys raised me strong and loved me enough for a lifetime, but it doesn’t make making a life without you any easier. But I will be OK.  I love you Mom and Dad. For so many wonderful things, for so many reasons and for so many wonderful holiday traditions and memories. Most of all, I love you for being the most amazing parents in the whole world. Merry Christmas. Love and miss you always.

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.

The Siblings Are Coming

We all have those weekends where we are excited and can’t wait.  This is one of those weekends for me.  The siblings are coming. I have three older siblings that live in other states, and they are coming to visit.  Dad is doing well now, and they want to see him, want to see where he lives and where he will be living. My two older sisters are coming this weekend, and my brother will arrive in a few weeks with his two sons.

Due to age difference and geography, we have not always been close. But there has been constant communication since I have been Dad’s care taker and that has fostered a closer knit existence. No matter who we are, our siblings hold special place in our lives and in our hearts.  And in this time of everything disposable, family relationships are the ties that bind.

It feels good to have a home where they are welcome, where there are spaces for chats.  We are blessed to have the home we have. But a building is not enough, I want a home where you walk in and feel love and warmth.  No doubt there will be much catching up, wine and laughter.  And there is something about actually laying eyes on someone you love to make sure they are OK.

Dad’s eyes light up when he talks about his children coming to see him, getting to spend time with them.  He is tinkled pink about this weekend, and looking forward to seeing his sons in a few weeks as well.

The past 7 months have been extraordinarily difficult. But a new phase is beginning, and with it brings new opportunities for strengthening relationships.  Life is all about love and love is what makes time worth while.

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.

This Thanksgiving

Change. It is a fact of life. Everyone, at some point, must accept it, learn to deal with it, adapt to it.  But that can very so very hard.

Usually I write about everything I am thankful for in the Month of November – a new list every day.  This Thanksgiving that seems too strange. I do look around and acknowledge the many blessings.  But I am not sure how to act really.  I am very thankful Dad is still here, thankful for my wonderful boyfriend, the fact that we have been blessed to have such a wonderful home and are building a life of love. That I have such wonderful friends who are there for me and love me, that I have a job I love at a great company.

And that I had 42 wonderful Thanksgivings with my mother.  That I was there in her last moments. And for all the wonderful talks and whispers and moments we shared, mother and daughter.  When she looked at me in the hospital and said “I know you truly love me.”  When she smiled and said “I know what that means.”  When I read the letter and notes she wrote labeled “Don’t open unless I am dead”…and how truly funny they were.  Thankful for the way she always knew just what to say, and when to say it, to make me smile and feel better.  Thankful for the taco soup and fresh cut corn that she froze, just for us, knowing she was going to pass. Still taking care of us, even now.

This Thanksgiving will be very different from the ones in the past.  Every Thanksgiving has been at my parent’s place.  Even when I lived far away, the trip would be made to make sure I was there with the rest of the family.  There was always so much food because Mom loved cooking for all of us.  The exception was last year when I begged to have the holiday feast at my place.  Mom and Dad reluctantly agreed and made the trip up to the big city.  It would turn out to be the last with my Mom.  My sister and her three boys were there too.  I treasure those memories.

This is the first year in my life that Mom will not be here for Thanksgiving, or Christmas.  This change is not welcome, but it is as it is and so I must adapt.  Thanksgiving is coming whether Mom is here or not.  And so this year we will spend Thanksgiving around M’s mother’s table. I am thankful for their generosity of taking us in. And no doubt there will be lots of love around that table. Truth be told Dad and I are at a bit of a loss this Thanksgiving…and holiday season in general.

But that is the thing about change – it opens up new opportunities. New ways of thinking about and doing things, and new possibilities.  This Thanksgiving may have a melancholy feel, but it can still be special.  This Thanksgiving is about love. And love is always a good thing.  Because love feeds the Human Spirit, fills in all of our cracks and makes us stronger.

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.

Grace Under Pressure

How did my Mother do it, I wonder?  How did she manage the family and all the activities? When she was here, she was the one who took care of everything and everyone when they needed something.  Now that torch has been passed to me. And I think I am failing miserably at it.

For example, my sister closest in age has refused to help with moving our parents belonging out of the family compound into the new house where Dad will live.  When I asked if she would help her answer was “Dad can handle moving by himself, he is not a child.”  I don’t know of a single adult who can handle a move completely alone, including her.  In addition to that, she has many things of her own still in the house that she is expecting Dad, or someone other than her, to pack, load, move and store for her.  Seems to me like that takes a lot of nerve to expect. And it makes my blood boil as I see the hurt in Dad’s eyes, and his panicked and defensive tone as he says he doesn’t need her, any one’s help.

I am not a violent person, but the urge to throw something large and heavy at her was hard to resist.  But I did, barely. How exactly did my mother do it?

When you are placed in a leadership position, there is a tremendous amount of responsibility that goes along with it. That responsibility also gives you certain rights or privileges.  For example, I was there when my mother passed, that sister was not. The cross that my mother was wearing when she passed, hangs around my neck now. That cross my dear mother gave me, I took and placed around her neck so she would have a cross to wear for her journey. And when my mother’s journey was complete, the cross once again hung around my neck from hers. A beautiful gift given, an intimate moment shared between mother and daughter.   That detail gives me the privilege to tell my sister she should have been there herself if she wanted anything different. The responsibility is to try to have Grace..to have justice tempered by mercy. I am pretty bad at that part. 

And I try so hard to remember my mother’s teachings of Grace and patience.  But that is oh so hard when I see my father being hurt. I want to be fiercely protective of him and tell her, in no uncertain terms, what I think if her selfishness, her refusal to work with us, her refusal to communicate or plan anything from his move, to his birthday to plans for the holidays.

We have all heard of a divorced parent whose ex-spouse makes joint custody of the children a nightmare.  Just because it is an adult parent, and not a child, does not make it OK to be an uncooperative ass.  And my mother dealt with this for almost 30 years, this sister causing problems. It should have been expected then, but I thought it might be different because of the circumstances.

And I wonder how she did it, my beautiful mother, because I am drowning. How did she keep her cool when selfishness came to the door and inside the house? Because I want to come out swinging.

When someone so selfish comes into your life, it completely alters the energy and feel of the room.  You can feel the air being sucked out of the entire space, as they are a black hole that devours anything positive and good.  It leaves you feeling exhausted as you try to feed their insatiable hunger.  But nothing you do for them will be enough; they will always want more, expect more and refuse more and more to do anything.  They are entitled, after all.

But you cannot defecate on those who love you and expect them to stick around.

And I realize maybe the solution is in walking away. From the drama, from the pain, from trying to be nice to someone who has no use for anything Burch but yet demands everything to be given. And Maybe the Grace and Patience my mother had comes not from believing in my sister, but from having faith that God will provide regardless.  God works miracles every single day.  Somehow this move, this time, this holiday season will work out without my sister, without her drama and her selfishness.  You cannot force someone to care, but you can move forward without them in your life.

And in letting go and leaving her behind, maybe therein lies the Grace. And also therein lies the Peace

Redefintion

It would be easy to call this redefined, but to me a stronger word is needed. To redefinition is to define something from scratch.  When you really have no clue, but have to figure it out anyway.  This is where I am.

There are a few things to redefinition in my life.  First, life is great, all things considered.  A great career, a great company, a wonderful relationship, amazing, supportive, loving friends.  I am very lucky and blessed.  But even with all of that, there is a lot of figuring out.

Happiness:  Happiness after the loss of a loved one feels different.  I am a happy person by default, having an upbeat disposition.  But I am acutely aware of who is missing.  Wanting to call and not being able.  But knowing she is here with me, watching over me, saying hello with little signs.  There is happiness in these things.

Family:  Now the family unit must be redefinitioned (yes that is a word, at least in my dictionary).  Mom is gone now.  And my closest sister in age and geography has stepped out of the picture, no longer wanting to be a part of mine or Dad’s life.  So I must figure out how to be a family now.  Thank goodness there are 3 other siblings on which to lean and who are being very supportive. My answer? LOVE.  What will that look like for Dad’s 80^th birthday?  Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years?  I have no idea.  But surely there is enough love out there to figure it out.

Adulting:  Crap. This means I have to be an adult.  I still have trouble putting my pants on without falling on my face.  I have no idea what I am doing, or how to do it. Unless it involves falling, tripping and breaking my toes.  I would like to think that I will get through this with Grace and Humor.  More than likely it will be a lot of long pauses, awkward moments and blank stares. The role of Humor will be played by those who are watching.  I know, you aren’t laughing at me, you are laughing near me…

Love:  Holy crap, do I have enough love to fill the void of Mom, sister, her three sons? I have no idea, but certainly with faith and prayer I will find out.  It’s going to be rough, but it can be done.  People do it every day, so we can too.  And no doubt there will be plenty of laughter along the way, as there always is.  That is the thing about life – we may never know or understand the roads on which we end up traveling, but we can at least make the best of it.

Grief: I have no idea what grief looks like, but I have a feeling that I am deeply in the middle of a staring contest with it.  I am going to win too.  After going through all of the phases, which I am not even sure of what they are called.  But a rose by any other name…so does it really matter?  I imagine grief and I will become quite good friends before the end. So I hope it likes coffee and wine.  And soft pillows.

Every day: Slowly I am getting my groove back.  Getting back to work, being productive…not bursting out in tears every hour.  That is pretty huge.  My co-workers were beginning to think my puffy eyes and red nose were a permanent thing.  Life is getting back to being a series of serious and comedic moments.  Living with an 80-year-old is an adventure.  He likes it really warm. As in 90 degrees feels good to him.  Like when we ordered pizza. And he wanted to eat it outside. When it was 93 degrees.  My boyfriend and I are melting, trying to eat this hot pizza, sweat pouring out of use like were are made of holes.  Meanwhile, Dad is oblivious, even putting hot sauce on his slice commenting on what a nice evening it was.  But I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The Holidays:  See above family.  Just an expansion.  Mom held everything together.  Now we have to figure it out on our own.  For sure there will be a big Christmas tree.  Her ornaments.  Wrapping. And wrapping. And wrapping.  Hot chocolate. Cats. A big fireplace.  And not sure what else.  We will figure it out when we get there. Redefinition.

Decoration:  I already had a stuffed house before my boyfriend moved in.  Now more things with Dad.  I am discovering the lost art of cleaning out, throwing away things I haven’t used or worn in years to make room for…more stuff.  It is liberating and slightly scary.  When was the last time you looked in those boxes that have been packed for the last 20 years??  Yep, did that a few weeks ago.  And everywhere you look, there is a painting, picture, piece of furniture.  And whatever you do, do not open that closet door!

Dinner time:  We usually cook every night anyway, but it is pretty cool to have another at the dinner table at night.  And then after dinner conversations.  Beer or wine on the patio.  TV?  At some point I will have to binge watch everything I have missed and am missing.  I may need to book at “Bedcation” to catch up.

Gardening:  In addition to lots of stuff, I have inherited about 40 plants.  Except I am not good with plants, but I am determined to changed that.  Everything from a Delicious Monster, or a Staghorn Fern, to rubber tree plants, to a ficus benjamina, to many cacti, to other green things, this is going to be a very leafy adventure (hopefully). There are plants everywhere in the yard, and this winter, my house will be the greenhouse. Should be interesting with the cats…

Working out:  Help! My fat pants seem to have shrunk in the laundry…Or maybe I just need to get to the gym, eventually.  Between working and everything else, the gym, or even working out at home, seems like a distant fantasy. It’s a shame redefinitioning doesn’t burn any calories, because if it did I would be in my skinny jeans.

No doubt many others have redefinitioned these things too, and more.  The great thing about life is that we do get to make up our own rules, we do get to write how we want it.  And whatever these things are, I want them to be stuffed with Love.  Like a giant stuff olive (can you tell I am hungry?)

Riding with My Dad

First of all, my father is the most adorable older gentleman that ever existed, and my parents are the cutest couple in the world, still holding hands and talking care of each other.

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Their last trip to see me was one of the best visits we have ever had.  My parents adore my boyfriend, and they get along very well.  We laughed, ate, talked a lot and just were together as a family.

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And then something happened was delightful and a little surprising.

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Sometimes it is hard to imagine our parents as they were when they were younger, before we existed, when they were single and maybe even a little wild.  I have always known my father to be quite…well, fatherly.  But I have seen pictures of how handsome he was when younger (and he is still handsome just older).  I know when he was younger he had either a Maserati or Karmann Ghia (I am not a car person and get  them confused). So I do know that he has an appreciation for cars. And as a professional engineer, he has worked on many of them over the years, tinkering with this or that. And he watches the History Channel programs on planes and engines and such.

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We were just going up the store to pick up a few things, when my father strolls out of the house, with his slick sun glasses on, announcing that he is ready to go…in the convertible.  It is my boyfriends car, and it really is a wonderful, speedy, sporty thing.  But Dad, requesting the convertible? With a big grin on his face, he slipped into the passenger side and off we went, zipping through the neighborhood, classical music blasting on the stereo (his favorite)

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When I said it was a beautiful day, my father happily corrected me and said that it was a beautiful day to be out in a convertible.  It was a wonderful drive and made me wish the store was actually further away.

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So it is now that whenever we can, Dad will go for trips and rides in the convertible, smiling big, maybe remembering times gone by. It truly is the simple things in life, like a ride with the top down on a pretty day, with your dad. I will forever hold that sweet memory in my heart.

The Best First

We all have those special holidays or events that our firsts.  But when they combine, the outcome can be magic. This year was a very special Thanksgiving for me. It was the first time that I hosted the family for the big day, and it was the first time in many ears that both my parents were healthy and could celebrate without hesitation.

I worked all week on getting the house ready – everything clean and neat, but just messy enough that Mom had a few things to do and felt useful. Many blankets on Dad’s bed and a heater just for his room so he is nice and warm and toasty. The smoking area in the garage, complete with the couch and back patio chairs, heaters and throw blankets. Plenty of firewood, towels, bed linens and snacks. And the carpet cleaned and looking good (thanks to my wonderful boyfriend).

And then it was time.  Mom and Dad arrived with hugs and kisses and coffee and smiles. Then later it was a hot dinner and cold wine. The next morning, my sister came with her two boys. And the cooking was on.  All of us Burch women in the kitchen, slicing, dicing, mixing and drinking wine and snacking on cheese and crackers.  It was a mess but it was fun.  And wonderful.  That kitchen was filled with so much love. And food – there was Mom’s stuffing recipe, and the secret broccoli and cheese casserole, then the turkey, and…

And then it was time to eat – a few hours past when I originally thought, but that just meant everyone was extra hungry.  We pulled my two tables together for a shabby chic, Hodge-podge Thanksgiving dinner. A prayer was said and then we all ate.  And laughed, and talked and drank and there was happy murmur and conversation.  And as I sat there, looking around at my family in my little home, at my little two tables, I was so very grateful. Another year with them, my family, where everyone is healthy and happy.  And as my heart beat, it swelled with such happiness and contentment that I was ready to pop.

And that is the thing about life, it doesn’t have to be perfect to be wonderful.  I have a small home in a small but nice neighborhood.  Mismatched glasses lined the two tables pushed together and mismatched place mats were under that plates. And no one cared. Because those ancillary things are just that. It’s the imperfections that make those moments and events great. Love makes the imperfections beautiful. .  It was perfect. And amazing. And wonderful. The best first Thanksgiving ever.

Happy Fathers Day

Every year I write a tribute to my Dad on father’s day. 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.

The Trip

Everyone has those great trips, where memories are made, where there is laughter, thoughts, wine and good times. I went to Washington DC recently to visit one of my older sisters. It had been a long time since we really spoke and talked of things, of both little and great importance. We have not been overly close, though I do suspect a mutual curiosity. It was the perfect time.

Friday was delicious home made dinner followed by wine and conversation and the family dinner table.  Saturday was venturing into the city, seeing the monuments. Jefferson was my favorite, though the Vietnam Wall had the biggest affect on me.  To actually see that many names, to take your finger and touch the wall, touch the names of the young men, was very powerful. Lincoln and FDR Memorials were my favorites too.  The history of these monuments, and that of these men, and of this country. They truly loved and believed in this country, something that is surely lacking now.

There was the jump on and off buses, the Zen of the FDR and why it is her favorite. There was the Capital Building and the National Archives. There were different people walking, laughing and touristing, just like us, though my sister lives in the area. She made sure that I read the history and saw cool things, that she herself had seen many times. She was patient with me, as I looked around, wide-eyed and reading so many of the quotes and inscriptions. She was just like a big sister. And it was very nice.

Next was the Smithsonian Museum of Space and Air. And again she was so patient as I looked and read everything.  She had been there too many times to count, because that is where everyone wants to go, including me.  Her favorite was the Natural History Museum (hope I have that right). I wanted to go not only to see space suits and things like the space shuttle (which is not actually there, but they do have pieces of it), but to see part of what our father worked on so many years ago when he lived in DC. He worked on ballistic Missiles called Nike-Zeus, Atlas and a few other things. They really didn’t have much there that he worked on, but it was very interesting to see the things that he might have worked on, things his friends might have worked on.  The day came to a close over a funny movie and Chinese take out.

We went to church the next morning, something I needed, my should needed and my heart needed. Going to church together was a quietly sweet experience.

And I left with so much than with what I came. In addition to great conversations about life, love, family, faith, God, new experiences that are coming, some recipes and instructions for prayer and meditation, I left with wonderful memories and  a new appreciation for someone I am so glad I had the chance and took the time to get to know better. My only regret is that I did not make the trip sooner.

In this day and age of bigger, better, faster and the flashier the better, we cannot forget to spend time with family. To take the time to build relationships, to talk about things that that matter and to not forget from where we came, and what we have in common.

When I talked to my Dad about going, his face lit up and talked about how much this trip meant to him too. What we do has an affect on those around us. When we operate with love, love is returned to us, and to all those around.  When we operate in fear and lies, the same is returned and damages all those who come in contact. Treat your family well, with care, with love and with tender handling. Because they are the only family you have.

 

 

Storms With My Dad

When I was a child, my father and I would sit outside during storms and watch the lightning. We always had covered back or front porches, always lived in the country, so you could see the sky for miles. And we would sit out there, sometimes for an hour or more, and watch the lightning dance across the sky. The air would crackle with the electricity of the storms and I would be thrilled to see the beauty play out before my eyes.

Maybe that is from where my life of storms comes, or my desire to capture lightning on film. Because it’s like capturing those memories, as I think of my father every time I see lightning in a storm. And I remember feeling so very special as we sat and watched, my father and I.

It’s these wonderful precious memories I have of my Dad that often make me smile.  I have always been a Daddy’s Girl, and will always be. While my Dad is sick and recovering, it is these memories that somewhat ease the pain I feel.

Never underestimate the  memories someone may have of you. Sometimes the simplest of things will be the best of memories for those you love and who love you. And When I pray at night, for his quick recovery from this last chemo treatment, so many memories come to mind. Indeed, I am a lucky girl.

My Dad, a good storm and two chairs. Yes, that’s the good stuff.

And I am lucky enough to have found a man that my father respects.  That means the world to me. And to my  heart.

 

Family Habits

We, as humans, are creatures of habit.  Whatever we do, the cycles we have, the patterns we display, all show habit is part of the human condition. And what is great about having my family living with me, is seeing habits and cycles form.

We, as a family, seem to have a rhythm. I know the days my sister will be tired, and nights my nephews will want a good meal after that hard class. They know my moods and rhythms too. Now, if we could only all get into the rhythm of cleaning the kitchen, that would be great.

But it is interesting watching them form. Which days we sit and watch TV, which nights we sit around the dinner table laughing, which nights we drink wine, and which nights we all just want to go to bed early. Who does their laundry on what night of the week.

I love when we all get together in one of our rooms and chat. Love when we enjoy a good dinner together, love when we gather around the calendar and talk about who needs to be where, when doing what. I love the planning that goes along with being a family. Love moving as a unit, together, even when we are separate. It makes my heart happy to have those that I love so dearly, around os close.

I have learned that family is what makes a house a home and what gives a home a soul. The cabinets in the bathroom for Mom. The caffee for my nephew, the teas for my sister. The place where we write down what we need for groceries. Seeing their things around to remind me that others are close by. Hearing them get ready in the morning, as they try not to trip over the playful cats. grilling on the back patio, buying things I know they will love. All the joy that comes form the soul they bring with them into the home. And they Peace they bring into my own heart.

But that’s the thing about family – friends, lovers, jobs and even habits may come and go, but family is forever. So you might as well get into the habit of being a good strong one and working together for a happy household.

The Best Parents in the World

We are stuck with the parents we get. Let’s face it, no one asked us before we were born who we would want to be our parents. We never got to fill out an order sheet of  “must haves” or “I wants” when it came to the people who would raise us and prepare us for the real world. With that in mind, I have to say I was so lucky and ridiculously blessed with who my parents are. I would have chosen them if I had the chance.

I was thinking about it tonight: It’s easy to be proud of your kids when they are successful, making lots of money and doing cool things. But my parents were proud of me when I was making nothing, and completely unsuccessful. That takes a lot of love.

I was in radio, in television, in theater…and making nothing. How many times did they pay my rent? How many times did they give me money for groceries? How many times did they pay my medical bills because I had no insurance? How many cars did they buy me? How many times did they pay my electric/gas/cell phone/every-other-bill? And they still looked at me and told me they were proud of me.

I called my mother today and told her thank you for all the support, both monetarily and emotionally. Thank you for being proud of me when I was making nothing, not even scraping by. Thank you for coming to every play I was in, for listening to my radio shows, for watching my commercials on TV,for paying for acting classes. Thank you for supporting me following my dream.  Thank you for always believing in me, even when I when I had nothing to show for all the work I was doing.

She simply said “Of course we were proud of you and still are. Even then we could see your drive.”

I started to cry.

So parents, be proud of your children,and support them even when they are not successful. Be proud of them and support them even when they make decisions that you do not agree with (my parents knew radio, TV and theater made no money and wanted me to do something more profitable). Because they will remember, when they are 40, when they are 30, when they are 25 (and 50, 60, 70..)…that you were always there for them. They will remember and love you infinitely for always being there for them when they were striking out and following their dreams – however silly they may seem.

I know  parents who refused to pay for their children’s college if they did not study something profitable. I remember watching a movie called October Sky, and the child had a dream, but they father did not understand and did not support his son. The son followed his dream anyway. But the best moment was when his father finally got it, and came out to support him. That was a moment that character would never forget.

And indeed, as I look back at my life, I know I would not be where I am today, a successful writer making a great living, living my dream, without my parents supporting me all those years ago, for all these years. And I would not be able to accomplish all that I will in the future, if it were not for my parents supporting me so long ago. Even when they did not agree with me, even when they thought I might fail, even when they thought I was making the wrong decision, they were still there for me. They have always been my biggest cheering section. There are no words to express how much I love them for that, how much I appreciate them for everything.

So parents, support your children. It’s easy to be proud of them when they are successful and doing everything you want them to do…but the best parents support their kids regardless. Because when you are proud of your kids no matter what, they, in turn, will be proud of you as a parents.

So thank you to my wonderful parents, who for so many reasons are the best parents in the world. I could not be where I am today, and where I will be in the future, with you and your support. I love you more than words can say. And every day, I thank God that the two of you were my parents.

Day 20: Home, Beds and Blankets

Day 20, My Home: I think I  said something about being thankful for having a roof over my head in an earlier post, but this one is different. This is specifically about having a home.

As I was cleaning up a night ago, I looked out over my house and realized something wonderful: it was finally my home. Home, that place that is sacred. That place where we are safe, were we are protected from all that is bad or unpleasant. Home is where we go to recharge. home is where our hearts are safest.

And I look ed around and there were memories in every corner. This is the place where I go to be safe, where my Mother comes to be comforted, where my father comes to heal after treatment, where my nephew comes for quiet time, where my sister comes to take a break and enjoy some tea, where my friends come for laughterand good times, where those I love come for comfort, food and drink. It is Home.

And for that I am thankful.

Bed and blankets: I am also thankful for my wonderful comfortable beds. If I get tired and have trouble sleeping in one, I simply walk across the hall to the other. And then I can snuggle deep down into the warm blankets and drift off to sleep, while my cats purr beside me.

Yes, life is good and I am thankful.

Back to Life

We all have those things and times in life where our concentrated effort must go to other things, then when energy and time is free again life opens up with new possibilities.

And it is with this new hope that I take a breath, long, drawn out, close my eyes. Slowly inhale…hold for just a few seconds…slowly exhale.

And get ready for all the possibilities waiting for me and I get back to my life. The past year seems to have had a giant Pause button on life. Not that I have not accomplished a lot, or had a lot to deal with – a better job, lots of freelance work, almost completed my book, have auditions coming in, read several books, helped with my father, taken several trips and lived in a lot of love. And dealt with legal issues and won.

Now, it is time to get back to the rest of my life. Enjoying time with  my wonderful Dad. Being a great aunt to my nephews and a good sister to my sister. Spending time with friends, catching up over long talks. walks and laughter.

And love, it is time to get back to love, holding hands and gooey looks at each other.

It is time to celebrate fall and the cool weather, and enjoy the first chilly night where you need a sweater.

Time to get back to loving my job and being the best writer I can be with out distractions.

And I want to have that nice, wonderful quiet life…with some great adventures. Travel, long weekends, snuggling by a fire, lots of friends and celebrating being settled in life.

And being the girl. Painting my nails, fixing my hair, wearing lacy things and just being held. For a really long time. Feeling safe and sound. Because I am a girl.

Yes it is time to breath and get back to life.

Dressed Head to Toe in Love

We all have those times in our lives that remind us of how much love is around us at any given moment and how lucky we truly are to have who we have in our lives . It may be a quiet moment when we realize this, it may be in a room full of our best friends and family.

This week is sure to be a very busy one, as getting ready for a long holiday weekend usually is. But this seems to be even more so for me because this coming week .many of my best friends will be converging in my life and space. It was not planned like this originally, it just happened. A friend is getting married, so my dearest friends are coming into town. And we will all be together, laughing, drinking, eating and remembering.

And then there is my family. They will be close as well. My fathers 76th birthday is coming, and will all celebrate the fact that he is still around and will be now for quite someone time. My best friends in the world are coming into town and it will be wonderful to see them. And as I look around it dawns on me, not only do I have all the love and happiness I could want, but so do all those around me that I love so much. My best friends are happy and loved, as is everyone in my family.

I was watching the first Sex and the City Movie last night, and at the end, all of the girls had found the places where they were happy, loved and glowing. And that is how I feel now. There is not a single part of my life that I do not love and about which that I am not completely thrilled over. And it will be a week long celebration of love.

There are those wonderful long talks with my friends on the phone, the long talks over wine with laughter and talk of things to come. Making dinner for my nephew and seeing his face as he eats home cooked food prepared with love. It is talking with him about his classes and his roommates, find out all about his life as a college student. It is talking with my best friends about plans for the future, or simply about the day they have had.

It is all those wonderful moments that make me realize how blessed I am. It is taking a new dance class and meeting new people. It is pushing my body to new levels and being determined that I will be able do it. It is writing that big piece for work and knowing when i turn it in to my manager, that it is a great piece.

It is the new touch of crisp in the air, for the first time this season, that lets me know that fall, in all of it’s deliciousness, is on it’s way. It is the promise of cooler nights, and days, and fall festivals soon to come. . It is the smell of pies and jellies. It is the slight breeze that gently moves my hair across my face as I am walking to my car, and deciding to drive with my air conditioning off, and the windows down.

So if I am absent for a bit, it is because I am drowning in the delirious happiness of love – from my friends, from my family, from life. Yes life. I love my life. And as I look around at all the new fall fashions, I realize that I am dressed, head to toe, in Love.

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.