Dad's Garden

For a long while I needed to do something with an area of the garden that had become a bit overgrown and hard to control.  It was an area that Dad had helped to create many years ago when he was a younger and fitter man, so I didn’t want to dig up the area completely.

I had the idea to turn it into my own Zen Garden, something peaceful and calming and that would still remind me of Dad, so we set about clearing the area.  I had a rough idea what I wanted to achieve so off we went to the local garden centre and bought stones, gravel, pots and plants.  While I was there I saw a beautiful round, solid stone globe that reminded me a little of the planet Saturn.  It cost a fortune so I left it where it was.

Back home with my goodies and we set about laying a liner first of all to help with weed control; on top of the liner we spread Portland Stone chips which glowed white in the warm sunshine; we set random flat stepping stones of slate and at the end of the pathway we added a Buddha; three black square pots planted with blue grass were added – the area was coming together nicely.

The whole time we worked in the garden a beautiful small white butterfly with a blue centre flitted around the garden.  No sooner had it moved away it was back, it seemed it couldn’t quite leave us.  Now, butterflies are quite significant for us and Dad and I’m sure he wouldn’t mind me sharing this with you.  Dad had a way with getting his words wrong and mis-pronouncing them.  A few years ago, during one of his visits, we were sitting in the garden and talking about family things.  As Dad mis-pronouced the word hereditary, coming out as heri-dit-ory, a butterfly flew quite close to us.  My friend was stunned, thinking that Dad knew the name of the butterfly and we’ve laughed for years about this whenever we saw a butterfly.  So on this particular afternoon it was lovely to have the "heriditory" with us, we had Dad’s approval of the new garden.

Of course, the garden was lovely but not quite finished.  So I went back and bought the big stone – Dad’s stone in Dad’s garden.

The Funeral

Dad’s funeral was last Friday and, as funerals go, I have to say it was a good one.

When I awoke that morning I asked my guides and angels to be with me throughout the day and they didn’t let me down.  The first song I heard on the radio when I turned it on was the Eurythmics “There Must be an Angel”.  Everything went according to plan; the church was packed and it was standing room only.  My son read the Eulogy and I was both amazed and so proud of him.  The evening was spent with really good friends; a few drinks, a nice meal and a bit of relaxation.  We had waved my Dad off and now he was home.

I went to see Dad that morning at the funeral home.  I only went because my son wanted to go and I didn’t want him to do it alone.  Dad looked peaceful, but he wasn’t there – it really was an empty shell.  My son and I cried a lot and I guess it confirmed for us that Dad had really gone; I’m glad we went.

The following day the hard work of clearing his home started and what really struck me was how you spend a lifetime collecting bits and pieces to have someone chuck it all out at the end of the day.  There is no way I could fit the contents of Dad’s home into mine and, to be honest, neither would I want to.  Dad’s stuff was his memories, not mine.  So I have one or two little bits, plus loads of photos, and the rest had to go.  But it has made me think about the stuff I have in my own home, the things that I have collected over the years and yes, they do hold lots of memories, but now I believe that life should be more about experiences rather than a collection of things.

Clearing out Dad’s things has made me think about getting my own house in order; one day my Son will have to clear out after me and at the moment it will not be easy.

One of the moments that made me smile was just after I had poured a nearly full bottle of wine down the sink.  There was a loud knocking at the door but when I opened it there was no-one there.  I’m pretty sure it was Dad letting me know that he was not best pleased with me – he did like his glass of wine or two!

So, with everything just about complete, I am left to adjust to a life without my Dad.  And yet I know he’s still with me.

I love you Dad xx

The Passing

It’s finally happened, my Dad passed on Thursday night and went home.

Through my lifetime I have said goodbye to many people who I have loved, but it’s hard to say goodbye to a parent.  My Dad has always been there for me, through the good times and the tough times, I will so miss not having him around to share my life with.

And yet I am not totally consumed by grief – I am terribly, terribly sad, yes, but I’m ok.  I was eighteen when my Mum passed and I remember that feeling of all-consuming despair, the grief because I would never see her again, the anger that she had been taken from me and, yes, the need to blame someone for her death.

Forty years on and I feel totally different.  Is it because I’m older and wiser?  Is it because my Dad is older and has had a good life?  Is it because at the age of 86 he was nearing his time to go?  Well, yes, it could be any one or a combination of those things, but more importantly I know now that his passing is not the end of my Dad.

Through this whole period of Dad’s illness and passing I have learnt, and am learning, some really valuable lessons.

I have learnt that I don’t always have to be strong for others, so now if I want to cry I will.  Grief is an emotion that I am experiencing right now and I will own it, I will go with it and allow it to flow from me as it will.  Soon it will start to subside.

I have learnt not to feel guilty about things that are outside of my control.  I could not have been with Dad as he passed because he deteriorated too rapidly to allow me to make the 2-hour journey to be with him.

I will not allow others to make me question myself as to whether I could have/should have done more.  I did what I could at the time and I will not live with regrets.

I guess when anyone passes, the past and the memories are at the forefront of the mind.  My memories are, on the whole, happy and loving ones.  Yes there are a few that could be better but who wouldn’t change a few things if it were possible?  What I am finding now is that I’m looking at the not so good memories and releasing them, so I am having a real good clearing out of all the clutter and things that no longer serve me.

Through this sad time in my life I find that I am learning things of such value, I am embracing the situation rather than seeing it as something that I have to get through as quickly as possible.

During this past week I have felt such tremendous love and support from my guides and angels.  They have been there to help guide me through some of the decisions I have had to make, and they will be with me tomorrow when I have to register the death and make the final arrangements, they will be with me through the funeral, and they will be with me in the weeks that follow as I adjust to a life without my Dad.

It's Been a Long Week

It’s exactly one week since my Dad had a stroke and it’s been a week of highs and lows.  There have been several times when we thought “this is it”, but he’s hanging on in there and yesterday was the best I’ve seen him all week.  We’re not out of the woods yet, but we’ll just have to wait and see what happens.

Obviously I’ve been giving and sending him Reiki on a daily basis, and what is really amazing me is that I continue to step out of the way and allow the guides to work.  I had anticipated that I would not be able to do that because I was too emotionally involved.  I thought that I would want to ask for a specific outcome, but no, I am sending the Reiki for his highest possible good.  Quite amazing.

I’m also surprised that I am a lot calmer than I thought I would be and I think my step-family are surprised by my reactions.  Yes, of course I’m upset about what’s happened to my Dad, but I can’t be so demanding of a medical team who don’t have all the answers and can’t comment on his long-term recovery.  I can’t make plans for 6-weeks ahead because I just don’t know what will happen.

I am learning to live in the now, and I am happy to do so.  I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, I hope it will be good but worrying today will not change tomorrow.  I will do my bit by setting good intentions and sending Reiki.

It’s funny you know, although I’ve always known about the bigger picture, I think I am now beginning to realise that it is so.  Dad’s stroke, while horrendous for him and us in this lifetime, is but a fraction of the lifetimes to come.  It’s like I am getting little glimpses of the whole and then I snap back into now – does that make sense?  It’s quite difficult to explain but I’m sure you’ll know what I’m talking about.

So – my Dad’s had a stroke and it’s pretty horrible for all of us.  But we’re not the only family going through this, there is a whole building, at just that one hospital, of families who are coping the best way they can.  I hope that at some point I might be of use to some of the patients and families, but we will see.

I hope I am learning many lessons through this experience, I certainly feel they are there for me.

After the High ...

After floating around on a bit of a high all day Saturday after the launch of Como, I came crashing back down on Sunday.

Two things happened – the first was I developed a cold.  I’m sure I had probably been incubating it for a few days, but once everything had returned to normal my body allowed it to break free!  Not too bad in the grand scheme of things and plenty of self-Reiki will ensure a speedy recovery.

The second thing that happened, and more devastating for me, was that my father had a stroke!  He is 87-years old and lives alone but amazingly he happened to be with a neighbour when it happened.  He was obviously taken straight to hospital and I rushed to be there, but it’s a two and a half hour drive away and it seemed to take forever.  When I got to the hospital he was conscious but had lost his speech and was paralysed down the right side of his body.

I felt totally useless and out of control, all I could do was pump tons of Reiki into him and boy, was he drawing it.

It’s early days to think about the long-term prognosis but, for him, this is the worst possible thing that could happen and I am not sure how he will cope.  He’s a very independent, proud man and the limits his age places on his body already frustrates him.

At this point in time I’m not sure of my own feelings.  Part of me wants him to pass over to a better life but I don’t want to lose my Dad.

The one thing that is helping so much is the knowledge that there is better to come for him.  I am trying hard to live in the now – worrying will not change a thing, but it’s hard.

We all have to lose people we love, and I’m certainly not looking for the sympathy vote here, but I just want to share how much Reiki and my spiritual knowledge is helping me at the moment.  I’m concerned that others might think I’m heartless and callous but, really, I only want the best for my Dad.

But it’s his journey to make and, although I will be with him as much as I possibly can, this is one journey that I can’t make with him.