6 Months – 52 Weeks, A Blog Dedicated To Lionel Larry

52 weeks Aug 29, 2018

6 months to the day – September 23, 2015

What is crazy to me is how fast time flies.  My father left this earth 1/2 a year ago.  I have lived 1/2 a year without him.  My mom has been a widow for 1/2 a year.  It all seems so hard to believe.  1/2 a year.  This seems like a significant point in the grief journey.  Today also happens to be Yom Kippur – a time for meaningful reflection.  I do not regularly attend Synagogue, even on the high holidays (please dont judge!!).  Today I went for the first time in a long time.  I went to attend Yizkor (a special service to remember those no longer here).  I went to be a support for my Mom, and to honour my father.  It is interesting how the smallest things can trigger you.  While I did not feel anything so intense during the service, what really triggered my heart was seeing a young woman – probably about 40 years old, greet her Dad at the service.  She sat down beside him, he took her hand in his and kissed it.  I just watched the unconditional love – the father daughter bond – so deep, so special – a priceless love that cannot even be described in words, only felt.  In that moment, I had a huge lump in my throat, my eyes welled up and I felt very alone.  My Dad would have done the exact same thing.  I could almost feel it happening.  I could almost feel him looking at me with such pride and admiration and love. While I normally would get heavily distraught and depressed ;at this 6 month mark – I am feeling my reactions shifting, just slightly.  Do not get me wrong – My brain has still not fully even processed that he is gone – but something feels a little bit different.  A little bit more grounded.  The light is cracking through slightly – I am more confident that it will crack open in even more time.  I am also certain that as the light comes flooding back in, that my Dad’s spirit will start to fill me up and surround me more.  What a JOURNEY the last 6 months has been – truly the journey started on Dec 16 2012 – almost 3 years ago.   The day the world as I knew it shifted, the day cancer came in.

I have been asking this question often in my work with people: How would you change your life, if you knew you were going to die in a year?  What would you change in your mind, how you treat yourself, who you surround yourself with, how you spend your time; would you still be anxious or beat yourself up about the same things?  Whatever you would change, you might want to consider working on NOW.  Because the reality is – your life as you may know it, may change in a year.  While you are hopefully not going to die – your life as you may know it now, could change.  A parent could get sick, a loved one could get diagnosed with cancer, you may end your marriage, lose your job.  Life is full of it all, and no one is immune.  This is not meant to fill us up with fear, in fact I say this for the total opposite purpose.  I say this – so that we begin to LIVE.  TO LIVE NOW, in the fullest expression of ourselves, without waiting – because we just never know.

I feel full of gratitude today – which is a strange feeling to have at this pivotal time in the grieving process.  I am grateful for my strength, for my beautiful family and friends, for the people who came out of the wood work to help me in my dark dark days (for which there have been many). I am so grateful for my son, and my husband, my brothers, my friends who are like sisters, for my mom.  I am grateful for my work.  I am grateful for the father I had for 34 years who taught me everything.  If you are reading this – I hope you are feeling grateful too.  Life is short and it passes quickly.  Slow down, breathe deep, take it all in….

Going to leave this post with a song I listened to with my dad very often in the last few weeks of his life.  Father and Daughter by Paul Simon.

If you leap awake
In the mirror of a bad dream
And for a fraction of a second
You can’t remember where you are
Just open your window
And follow your memory upstream
To the meadow in the mountain
Where we counted every falling star

I believe a light that shines on you
Will shine on you forever
And though I cant guarantee
There’s nothing scary hiding under your bed
I’m gonna stand guard like a postcard
of a Golden Retriever
And never leave till I leave you
With a sweet dream in your bed

I’m gonna watch you shine
Gonna watch you grow
Gonna paint a sign
So you’ll always know
As long as one and one is two wooo
There could never be a father who loved
His daughter more than I love you

Trust your intuition
It’s just like goin fishin’
You cast your line and hope you get a bite
You don’t need to waste your time
Worryin’ about the market place
Trying to help the human race
Strugglin to survive its harshest hour