This week my dad was diagnosed with cancer. A golf ball sized lump in his arm pit that they are calling malignant melanoma, already spread to his kidneys. My mom and sister and I all went slightly, temporarily crazy with our thoughts about how this is about to change all of our lives, what should be done, and how it might affect us and my dad. We did the “What if” game for about 48 hours, until I recognized the fear and tried to calmly shut it down. Truth is, we don’t know anything. Dad is in the testing phase and hasn’t even had a full consult with an oncologist yet. Deep breath. One day at a time.
In the bathroom this morning I began thinking doomsday thoughts, triggered by the news about my dad, and my ongoing spiritual journey, which has me deeply questioning life and my purpose in it. This doomsday thinking is something that I have done since my kids were born, and if you are a parent, you likely have done this too. Since becoming a parent I admit I have gone slightly insane, but it is this crazy edge of me that makes me a great parent. And this morning in the bathroom, I contemplated what I would say to my kids if we were on a plane that was going down and death was imminent. I thought to myself how crazy, and at the same time how wonderful I was for being the kind of mom who would think that way.
So we are on the plane, being shoved violently back and forth in our seats by the turbulence, and the oxygen masks have dropped. There are screams and smoke. My kids are old enough now, so we all put the masks on at the same time, staring wide eyed at each other with tears streaming down our faces, each knowing that what is happening is not good. We grab hands and try to breathe through our tears that are fast becoming chest heaving sobs. What do I say, in this one last brief moment, that will hold a lifetime of meaning and allow us to rest in the wings of God as he takes us all to heaven? What would I say?
Yikes, tough last paragraph, right? Well, that is what I do. I can’t help it. My mind goes there. It wonders. It wants to have the answers about what I would say, or do. When reminded of our short existences by the illness or death of someone close, life jabs me in the side with its elbow, just incase I was sleeping. “NOW!” It screams. Now is the time to say what you want to say, teach what you want to teach, do what you want to do, and be the outrageous, light-filled, kick-ass, hippie warrior of love that you are. Let your kids know you, damn it. And do it NOW.
So I have thought of all the lessons, and thought of all the stories, and made lists of all the important things that my kids should know in life, but what did it come down to when the plane was going down?
“I love you. I love you more than myself most days. I love you with every morsel of my heart and soul. Bringing you into the world was the biggest, fattest miracle of my life, and I could not imagine a life without you. Watching you grow and thrive has been better than the best movie of all time. If the only thing I ever did in my life was give birth to you, that would have been enough. You are my meaning, and my purpose. I love you more than the moon and stars.”
Not sure I could have spit all that out in the minutes prior to crashing, but you get the picture. More than the lessons, more than the teaching, more than the lists, it is the love that is what matters.
My dad grew up in an abusive household. I am not sure how or if he was loved well. He did not know how to love me well and by the time I had my own family I realized I wasn’t very good at it with him either. I ended up blaming all of my lack of self esteem and short comings on him and the way he treated me as a child. I did this well into my adult years, having trouble forgiving in a way that would set me free. I was never able to communicate my thoughts, everything stuffed and boiled inside of me. Love for him felt obligatory and I was full of resentment about it. I practiced compassion. I practiced psychology 101 in his presence, but each time I was faced with an ugly truth. I did not feel the place inside that was supposed to feel love.
I know that when I was born my dad was doing the best he could, with what he had, at the time. He was 26. If I had had my son at 26 years old my life would not have been the same. My dad didn’t have good love training before I was born. He loved based on what he had seen in his own family, which was extremely dysfunctional. I am realizing that the way he loved me was just the way he loved me. His way was not particularly loving, but he did it by providing for me. Since I was born, and after my parents were divorced, I never went without what I needed and most of the time what I wanted. That is how he could love me, by taking care of me financially. And he did that until I graduated from college.
I guess I always wanted more than that, and through my life I have been sad about my relationship with my dad and what I perceived as a lack of love. Actually most of my life I thought he hated me and would have preferred not to have me. What I am realizing now is that my dad was moving through the same struggles as I have moved through, navigating life for meaning and purpose, not always coming up with great answers, and probably going a little crazy after having kids.
I called to check on my dad yesterday. His diagnostic tests had been moved up a week, thanks to my “encouragement.” He wanted to thank me for pushing him to call. “I love you very, very, very, very much,” he said. I know dad. I know.
Rest Into Its Wings
by Laura Probert
I have blamed everything on you
It took me a while to see the truth
What you took from me so long ago
Is no longer under your control.
I decide about who I am and
I decide when to speak
I am worth just as much
As anyone else, any fine week.
Here you are to teach me these lessons
For all I know you were sent here from heaven
To help me discover all my real power
You had to be an ass and make me cower.
You chose the role to help me grow
And I just thought you hated me so
Now I am grateful to be able to forgive
Put the puzzle in place and learn how to live.
Without you there to teach me to fight
I would have stayed small, not seen the light
I would have slept through each glorious day
Just hoped on dreams, instead of finding the way.
When I look back at the resentment and pain
I see it is all really my gain
I can let go of the blame and set myself free
Looking to love for a better way to be.
I’m taking back my voice and feeling my power
Thank you for giving me a chance to discover
The pieces of myself that I’d forgotten about
Possibility, potential, passion, no doubts.
Now in these difficult moments of need
I can give back to you from a heart that is free.
I can find the love that was lost for so long
Because now I know nothing truly was wrong.
I can give from a place of warrior love
From awareness and choice and help from above
Maybe you will feel the very same thing
Show up for love, and rest into its wings.
