Hi Ken,
It's Father's Day. Yesterday Natalie and I watched Alec get on a bus to go to camp for the next 4 weeks. It was hard to let him go, but I know how much he enjoys exercising his independence out there in the Northwoods. He is a handsome, passionate, deeply intelligent twelve year old boy. Last time you saw him he was six years old. Now he's a vegetarian who believes human beings are really mucking up the planet in a selfish manner. I'm sure you could have recruited him to put rude post-its on SUVs with you. He likes to listen to Stephen Hawking talking about the universe and he likes listening to the Beatles. He soaks up facts and general knowledge like a sponge. Good in every subject. You guys would have had fun zoning out on TV sports and the IPad together I'm sure. The other day he was teaching me the ins and outs of catching and pitching. He's a good teacher. He's incredibly good at math and games of strategy. He's never forgotten your teaching him to play poker. Now he just needs to find someone to play with him. Too bad Natalie and I cannot play chess with him or any game of strategy. He can beat us cold, every time. We are no challenge. He has a really great sense of humor. Despises injustice. Seeks fairness. Gets mad. He loves me. He loves Natalie. Still gives big, hard hugs. He has a hard time remembering you. What can I say? You would love him. He would love you. I don't know how losing you has altered his life, but I know it has, forever.
Natalie? Your little ten year old girl? She's just as sweet and kind and easy as she ever was, and now she's 15. She's beautiful, gentle, patient, thoughtful, understanding. She has your temperament. But there's some funny little Lucille Ball-like comedian in there too. She's in high school Ken. Diligent, hard-working, responsible. Tutoring handicapped kids, doing community service projects, and active on the Green (Environmental) Team. Next year she's chairing the Soup Kitchen committee. She wants to be a teen facilitator at Willow House where I am helping to facilitate grief groups for children or adults. I bet she'll do that training this year. She also loves theater and did a program at ETHS called Theater for Social Change where high school kids get together to discuss difficult topics like racism within the school, and then act them out. She's brave Ken. She's also a leader. A quiet, behind-the-scenes leader. She knows who she is. She's mature. Guess what? She's encouraging me to compost. I stopped after you died, but composting lives on in Natalie's environmentally sensitive person. So I guess we'll start that up again. Natalie remembers you well. What can I say? You would love her. She would love you. I don't know how losing you has altered her life, but I know it has, forever.
We don't like Father's Day as much anymore. But we love you still, and always.
About Me
- Jill Schacter
- My wonderful husband died when I was 44 years old. Being widowed this young happens to less than 3% of married people. Writing through this loss one word at time helps me understand what I've lost and helps me continue to grow. It is how I have gradually recovered from such a severe loss. Research shows that you can benefit from taking just 15 minutes a day to write out your deepest feelings as a way of healing. On the right side of this blog, you'll see a tag for Exercises to Try. If you need some help knowing how to use writing to help heal yourself, I suggest you start there.
Showing posts with label father's day. Show all posts
Showing posts with label father's day. Show all posts
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Another Father's Day Goes By
I'd say this Father's Day felt a lot better than the last two we spent without Ken. I didn't feel the need to engineer the perfect day designed to both honor Ken and minimize our own awkward or despairing feelings. I didn't do anything to distract us from the subject at hand: father's day without a father. I let the day be.
We went to the pool with friends. Invited Ken's parents over for a really nice dinner. And we decided we would try to behave as Ken almost always did...by being calm and understanding at all times. I'm not sure we succeeded in that, but what was I thinking? Ken's understanding, calm nature was to my mind what set him apart. He was dazzlingly calm. Blow me away calm. Impossibly calm. How could anyone replicate that? But somehow we were happy today. Progress has been made.
Two and a half years after Ken's death, I still live with his loss every day. It continues to define me. And it continues to shape me and change me into someone new, someone I wasn't before he left. I don't know myself as well anymore. So I've learned by living it that a loss this big somehow rearranges your whole sense of self and of the world. What I feel most often now is how everything is different, different than it was before. And I am different too. Atomically blown apart and rearranged and still settling.
I now know that Ken is gone. I believe it. And it's taken me this long.
Natalie said a few days ago: "I can't believe it's only been 2 and a half years. It feels like forever." And Alec said today, "I can't imagine what it would be like to have two parents."
Funny enough, I can take these sad statements and see them as positive. The kids are adjusting. They are resettling too.
We've survived another Father's Day.
We've survived. Period.
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