Relax, Unwind & Reflect
I begin by greeting all with wishes for a very Happy New Year in 2019. Along side the advent of Fall (which we never really had last year), welcoming the new year is one of my favored times of the year.
The new year is always, always a time of deep reflection for me—in every aspect. It is the time of year that allows me to unwind from a hectic holiday season that generally begins for me with Halloween. After the kids come down from their two to three days binge of candy, the commercialism of Christmas ensues with decor in all the stores (which often bypasses Thanksgiving altogether) and the digital marketing blitz of the hottest gadgets of the season. In combination those things get young kids riled up for December 25.
For me every year it never fails for my youngest, Jacob, to amend his original requests for Santa by adding or deleting from it. Often what his list begins with in October looks completely different by December largely due to some hot new X Box, PS4, and Switch game being released or some new toy Ryan’s Worlds fresh out in the market.
By the time Thanksgiving arrives, the frenzy has advanced. I begin wondering where our Christmas Eve and day festivities will begin, when will I fit in our annual long distance drive, and what the work week will look like (Christmas unlike Thanksgiving is not consistent to the day of the week thereby sometimes changing publication dates for weekly newspapers.)
After the gift swapping, driving, over intake of food, merry making, repacking of decorations, reviewing of a blown budget, etc… the new year is my time to relax, unwind, and reflect upon all that transgressed in the months behind and prepare for the months ahead.
As I have been in the midst of unwinding from the holidays, this past season was quite noticeably different for me and my family…it was without our beloved Emory. Last Friday was the six month anniversary of his passing. It doesn’t seem like six months but it has been. And though the holiday season is always busy for me with two young kiddos, 2018 was busier and subconsciously it was by design.
In the days and weeks following my dad’s death though I was newly grieving, I also experienced some relief—relief that the decline of his health I had witnessed over the years had come to an end, relief that those tedious and ohhhh so hard doctor exams I had witnessed throughout his last months were no more. And while I am grateful for the care he received at the Piedmont Newton Wound Care Center, especially from Dr. S. Whitmore and Nurses Carol and Peaches, there are things I would have rather not seen as a daughter.
As a few months passed, I began to miss him more and more. The great sadness I thought would lessen had became greater, relief as a consolation had run its course. So thinking that if I made myself busier during these days of merry I would have less time to think about the time that was usually spent with him.
There was no more watching CNN together, no more debating national politics, no more enjoying the frequent Bojangles country ham biscuit at any time of the day, no more runs for ice chips, no more watching Jacob ride up and down the hallways in the wheelchairs with others.
I remember sharing with Kathy a few weeks ago over lunch that I just longed to see his face live and in person one more time or to have just one last conversation. Kathy lost her beloved father and mother years ago and well understood what I was feeling at that moment.
My memories are plentiful and rich but are just no substitute for the real thing. I made my peace with death as a child. My parents always taught me that life begins with birth and ends with death, period. Losing my dad was the first death in my immediate circle of parents and siblings. Dear grandparents, aunts, uncles had passed and now my dad, ‘The Last of the Mohicans,’ was gone.
My mind often takes me back to the beginning of his journey to the end with his first day in hospice. He was more unbeat that I had seen him in months. As people buzzed around he called out the names of the matching voices he heard in the room. It was surreal as I sat rocking slowly in a corner chair. For a moment I forgot we were in hospice until I witnessed my dad’s last verbal encounter with my son.
Hearing Jacob’s laughter in the room, my dad called out for his grandson first by title then by name. My son leaped to his bedside and said, “yes granddaddy.”
My dad asked, “Jacob, do you love granddaddy?”
“Yes, I love you,” he replied.
My dad responded as he always had, “I love you too grandson.”
But then my dad tacked on another phrase I had never heard him add before that moment.
“And don’t you ever forget it,” he said.
Those words sent me into a frenzy of emotions I could not control. As it happened, my seven year old couldn’t have realized the gravity of that moment for his granddad, for himself, and especially for me. Realizing that my dad was saying farewell to my son turned on the waterworks as I made a quick exit.
As I reflect on the past year, my mind often takes me to that moment that feels me with joy, sadness, and gratefulness. Grateful that I had as much time in this life with my dad and that the love and lessons shared by him with me were also shared with his grandchildren.
So as I look to 2019 (which by the time this prints will be here) with anticipation of new adventures, I will remember the big change 2018 brought me.