Dedicated to dad

So, I sometimes post about my dad on his heavenly birthday...

post in 2010

post in 2009

With this day I reflect especially on how he might have affected my present circumstances. Instead of going to China for only 6 months, I may have stayed years. I may still be there, or somewhere else abroad, working with students on English. Ooh, maybe one of those English camps in Eastern Europe!

But instead I felt too far, and so alone without that protection of knowing daddy was a phone call away.  Even though I hadn't depended on that since leaving home for college, suddenly I was at a loss without it. I remember feeling so bereft those first couple years. It was my most common companion, I think, that and the sense of being alone.

I wonder what he would think of my sweetheart and how they would get along. They both have great senses of humor, and a love of barbecue, movies where things blow up on a grand scale (okay, pretty much on any scale,) and camping... I wonder what they would talk about theologically. I wish we could all go camping together and ride roller coasters at Cedar Point.

Another year has passed, and yet it's different this time. This time I have a man to hold me through the sense of loss, to depend on for car troubles, and who tells me everything is going to be alright. I had managed on my own and told myself these things, and it was alright. But I sure am glad that God has brought me another man to depend on after 7 years. He's no Conrad, but then again, his name is Zach  :)

Thanks to dad, I believe men like this are for real.

Post-talk

Well, the sharing hour didn't go as I'd really thought it would, and I can blame that on tiredness, not spending enough time on it, and many things, but really it was what it was, and it was fine. I was reconciled to that before speaking. I shared some poetry written when I was a teenager, and that went over pretty well. Oh, those angsty heartfelt years! I thought I was an old soul at 12; and in some ways I was, but I was also a 12-year-old.

What was surprising to me about that night of sharing (and probably not to those who read the last entry) is my focus on parents. Yes, their story is a part of my story, but my story was very much influenced by the two who raised me. Being an only child, I don't have siblings to blame :)

Anyway, tonight I have been watching some dear friends' children. Just when I thought I had attended to every possible delay mechanism, they of course came up with another. But I'm getting smarter! Kids are so very good at getting their way; these in particular are intelligently crafty. How 2 people can manage to raise children really is beyond me. As babies they require so much guidance, and are so dependent yet defiant. My favorite 2, almost-4, and 6-year-olds are at last sleeping in their beds, and I wish I were sleeping in mine as well!

The big news in life here these days is engagement pictures. At last they have arrived, and at last wedding invitations will be going out with links to view the pics.

One last, rather disconnected thought going back to the 'story'. Considering that there is a wedding imminently approaching, I have been pondering on the reality that my story is about to be drastically influenced in a way no other person besides my parents has touched me. Sometimes it scares me, and sometimes I am in awe of the fact that I am making a choice for the first time to have someone else so drastically involved in my every-day and long-term life.

That takes a lot of trust. It's baffling to me that so many people seem to trust so willy-nilly in marriage. Yet the result half the time doesn't surprise me, since people are jumping in so recklessly (at least it seems that way to me the onlooker at statistics and lives).

Whew. Trust.

Born at a young age..

Tomorrow, I am going to share with my home group about my life- for about an hour!

I see in my story a definite theme of death even while life flames in the foreground. The Life I live in Christ is a gift I am thankful for nearly every moment, and I have been blessed since being a young child to realize and accept this. God has always been with me in my memory. I was never alone. Severe skeptics would say that memory is of an imaginary friend that I never grew out of. That's so demeaning and belittling. I can't imagine saying that to someone, or even actually thinking it of someone without knowing them well. And yet I have acquaintances who throw these combative words and ideas around like they are nothing, and have the nerve to think I'm the one being insensitive before they've even given me a chance to!

Whew. Must be tired. My apologies. Not many read this anyway.

Back to the theme of death that is so prevalent, though. The death, beginning with my great grandmother, who died before I was born. She affected my life strongly in her absence, because of her place in life as my mother's mother. My mom lost her mom when she was 28, even younger than I am now. What pain it must have been. Then when my mother became a mom, her own mother had been buried for 2 years. She had to manage without the grandmotherly presence of her mom.

I never quite realized until now how young my mom was. I was acutely aware of how old I was when my father died. I was 22. The anniversary of the day he died is nearly upon me once again. How much things change in a few years. I live in the Northwestern US, am getting married in the summer, and have called this place home for nearly 2 years now. The friends made here are solidly among the dearest and closest I have ever had, even though I have worked hard to keep a few old friends rooted in my life; these people have known me since teen years if not childhood.

Well it's plenty late. But blog posts aren't supposed to be totally polished right? The point is to be writing, at this point, since I have been doing that so seldom. Just gotta get back in the swing of things!

Hope you're having a great day :)