Maybe it's the hormones, maybe it's me being sentimental, but there are some days I think more about where I have come from, and what has shaped me to be the person that I am.
I have a customer at the bank who is the sweetest man who recently lost his wife to breast cancer. Even though she is gone, you can still feel the love he had, and will forever have for her. When he talks about her, I am flashing back to when my dad was very sick.. Even writing this, of course, brings tears to my eyes. There are days I think about him and miss him more than others.
It's crazy to think he passed away over 10 years ago. An entire decade. There is so much I have done, that I know he would have been so proud of -- graduating from college, getting married, buying a house, having a baby... He would have loved Audrey, and the feeling is so mutual. The girl wants to be a farmer - just like him. He was such a gentle man.. hardly ever raised his voice... but when he spoke, people listened.
There will be times that I think about him and weep.. There are other times I think of him and laugh until it almost hurts. One Christmas we went to a dinner and a show. The hosts wanted volunteers from the audience to sing the 12 Days of Christmas. My dad couldn't sing worth a darn and he was chosen, to sing 3 French Hens. The first time he "sang" the crowd erupted with laughter.. poor man. My mom wanted to crawl under the table and hide. The gentleman who was picked to sing 5 Golden Rings truly is a singer.. Bad news for my dad. After that point, he wanted nothing more than to join my mom under the table :) I can't hear the song without smiling with tears in my eyes.
He may not have been a highly educated man, but he was an honest, hard working, God loving man. He learned from the land, and taught what he knew to his children and family. I hope that I can teach my family things he taught me.
There are other days I think about the parents I never knew.. and wonder about them - their voice, their actions, their habits, their way of life, their.. their beings. It will be 29 years this year... they were killed in a horrible car accident a week before Christmas. I was 8 months old. (When I say 'mom' or 'dad', it's actually my grandparents who took the role of being parents again.) I have a few things that were their's -- wedding bands, a shelf full of photo albums (so thankful she took a lot of photos and dated things!), letters, yearbooks, etc. But, I don't know THEM. Stories don't always do justice for me.. I'm hoping to someday be able to meet them..
With that being said.... almost 29 years ago my dad developed a disease that caused his body to not be able to process the iron in his body. Extremely rare.. doctors told him it could, and probably, would turn into leukemia. For years, he was doing well.. but then he needed to have blood transfusion and spent many hours in the hospital. My freshman year of college was bittersweet experience. I love the independence and freedom of dorm life, but I was also 3 hours from home. My spring semester he was in Hershey and doctors had confirmed his disease had turned into leukemia, and gave him 3-6 months to live. He and I drove home from college, loving the solo time together. I have no idea what the conversations may have been about. We may have just sat in silence and enjoyed each other's company. Mother's Day had a lot of bittersweet thoughts all jumbled into one day for me... I love being honored as a mother, but it's also the same day we had to say goodbye to an amazing man. Long story short, he had a brain aneurism. We came home, called family to let them know what was happening, and kept him as comfortable as possible. (If any of the amazing nurses or doctors ever read this, thank you for taking care of Anthony "Tony" Angle. You know as well as we, his family, know that regardless of how he felt, he had a smile on his face. Thank you).
His funeral was a celebration of his life.. He was no longer suffering, no longer in pain, no longer attached to medicines, no longer needing to spend time in a hospital... FREE. Free. He is free. Free to dance, free to sing, free to sing well, free to be with his Jesus.. and I hope free to be with the daughter and son-in-law he lost too soon. Free. FREE. Like I stated above, he is missed, he is never forgotten.. As are my parents. Of course, I don't have the memories with them, but I have a lot of ME that I think is part of THEM.
Time heals all wounds... but there are times those wounds do need some TLC. For me, being pregnant must be the time to revisit and open those wounds. It's not a bad thing.. Granted, Shannon may ask when he gets home why I've been crying, but it's the hormones... and thinking of the past, wishing some of those amazing people who I no longer have in my life, could be able to be with me during some of my life experiences. I know, they are 'with' me, but I would love to have them WITH me - in the flesh, not in the spirit.
Our pasts shape our presents, and prepare us for our futures. However, we may need to separate the pasts from the presents to be able to move on to the future. May we never forget our pasts, love our presents, and look forward to the futures.
