Processing the Un-Said

It’s an early morning for me, waking with some achy bones that may portend the advent of age. You know, things hurt the older you get. It’s a fact of life. For me, surgery on my knee last year still creeps out and says, “Surprise!” Then, my hips, to which the doc says is probably arthritis, well, every few nights… Achy Breaky…

Okay. Spoken like a true older person wanting to still be young!

While sipping my coffee, a morning thought slipped in and begged my attention. Standing before dad last week, there was so much I wished I had talked to him about that is totally impossible to do now.

Driving home with my son, from Texas to Oregon, I realize how much we talk. About stuff, shared interests, differences, and a lot of tech. He’s Mac. I’m not. Yes. I’m using my iPad and iPhone a lot these days, but there is no way on God’s green earth that I’ll ever own a Mac computer. We have fun talking through these things.

I said all of this to make note of something special. I talk to my kids all the time, and the subjects are far-ranging and interesting. We don’t always agree, and sometimes they are more wrong than right (!!), but that doesn’t mean we quit talking about it.

With all of this, I realize how important it is to talk. When you close the door on communication then you are stuck in the past. Talking reveals the present and points to the future.

Communicating With Dad

Part of my lack of communication with dad was simply the dynamics of his ability to hear. He was mostly deaf in one ear, and it was getting worse in the other one!

Every time we sat at the dinner table, we had to think through where dad’s good ear was and make sure he was where he could hear us all! Toward the end, cancer and it’s related treatment, ruined his good ear (and voice). It was harder to share.

I felt like dad was stuck between the proverbial rock and hard place.

Going Places

Dad liked to drive and go places. So do I. His good ear was his passenger’s ear. In other words, if he was in the passenger seat (front seat), his good ear faced the side window. As he aged, he was content to turn the driving over to others and it generally meant he couldn’t hear without making a conscious effort of turning his head toward you.

Toward the end, dad canceled his last road trip. I was flying down to drive them to Branson, Missouri. I had never been and was actually looking forward to the event. But the cancer treatment had started and dad no longer felt like going.

Singing

Dad loved to sing. But not to the accompaniment of musical instruments. They mostly destroyed his ability to sing the melody, stay on key, or say the right words. Well, okay. He made up words and phrases when he got lost on the song, but we all knew what he “meant to sing!”

Dad was often asked to sing at funerals (Golden Bells), specials at church, even at reunions. His ability to get silly, warm up his vocal cords, and then thrill everyone with his acapella voice – it was like he was a natural in front of a crowd.

If he was in front of the locals, then he may sing an Eddy Arnold song. At church? I’d Rather Have Jesus. Driving down the road? Well, you never knew where he would go.

If I had a nickel, I know what I would do
I’d spend it all on candy, and give it all to you
Cause that’s how much I love you, baby!
That’s how much I love you!
(Eddy Arnold – Wally Fowler – Graydon J. Hall)

I remember, however, that most of his songs were slow. He could go from the low notes and higher than I ever could! All the while, he could stay on key! I’m going to miss that voice!

Baseball

Looking back over the past few months, and years, I realize that there was much he could share if I could simply get him to talk. The issue wasn’t that I didn’t want to share. It was hard to get dad talking about anything more than what he was interested in at the moment.

Dad’s interest varied. He enjoyed the Astros, and I’m not sure what he thought about their latest dilemma. He cared little for statistics, but simply the enjoyment of the game.

My first ballgame experience with him was the Colt 45s’ from the pre-Astro’s days (the early 60s’), and then at the Astrodome during their first season. Later, we hit up the Mariners.

To this day, I love to go to a game with my kids. I hope they know where I got it from.

My last family gathering that included all six of us, where we took our last picture, was at the game. Dad was tired and tied to a wheelchair, but I know he loved the game! I bought him an Astro shirt, and now, I have it here at home with me.

Now there’s just four of us.

Connections

Dad was one of nine children, somewhere in the middle. Only one is left and he’s in another state. I never knew all his siblings, some died before I was old enough to connect with them. Something my brother said at the memorial service has stuck with me.

Dad had a different relationship with each of his children.

He loved us equally and was there for us all the time, but somehow he knew that each of us needed something a little different from him. Why? We were each very unique and needed a relationship with him that filled our different needs and situations. Dad seemed to understand this even when he may not understand us.

My Sister

I think my sister passing took the wind out of his sails. Teresa retired from teaching in Alaska and spent her first year back in Texas with mom and dad. She then moved to be closer to her grandkids, but she was always available to help our parents where and when needed.

She took dad to his doctor and treatment visits. We once joked that every time she visited on her summer vacations she was always taking dad to the emergency room! He was starting to fall a lot, and if Teresa was there, then an ER visit was sure to happen!

With my sister gone, the rest of us could never quite fit in as her replacement. Schedules and distance. Busy and far away. Planned and emergencies.

Teresa read through the Bible with them, one chapter at a time. She started Thankful Thursday and would call every Thursday with her thankful thought. They played Pass the Pigs and Wahoo. She was always doing crafty things with them.

All in all, Teresa helped the rest of us feel good about their aging. She was there when we couldn’t be. With her passing, everything shifted.

Communicating

I realize that some have journals that are private, secret and full of juicy tidbits not meant for our ears, but that’s not me. I’m a blogger and I do not hesitate to share my thoughts with the world. For over 10 years I’ve been writing, some of which have produced angry responses, thankful comments, and a myriad of followers. Shrug… I’m not trying to write a book, but I do believe I have a theme running through my words.

I try to unravel the meaning of life, one blog at a time.

I’m not an expert, but I do think things through. I research, think and then write. Just about everything I write has a biblical principle. Why? That’s who I am. My hashtags are constant.

#Thimk #Perception #Algorithm

I’m not sure dad ever read my blog. He was never much of a reader. But he would listen to us when we broadcasted our Sunday services. He may not get everything, due to his hearing issues, but he was faithful and ready to pay attention to what we taught or preached.

Dad… I wish we had had more time together. I miss you. I love you.