I wish you were here...

...because I could seriously use some advice.

But again, you're up there and I'm down here.

Yeah.

Meant to be or not meant to be?

Not quite Hamlet, but that is my question.

I love her.

I know that.

But she said it herself - sometimes love by itself isn't enough.

All of her.

All of me.

All of we.

All or nothing - but all for what?

White picket fence?

Two little rugrats and a cute little puppy?

We both want those things - that's for sure.

But now that we're on the brink of all that,

Standing on the edge of forever,

Just a few sentences from taking that plunge,

I'm suddenly not sure.

Not sure of what, you ask?

Not sure of me, knowing what I'm capable of at my worst.

Not sure of us, after all the fights and all the tears.

Not quite sure this is it.

Sounds terrible, huh?

After all this time, I don't know?

Surely if I even have to ask, that means all hope is lost.

Right?

So maybe I want to know for sure.

Is that so wrong?

Maybe just feelings aren't enough for me.

I don't like letting my emotions have the run of the place.

And she thought some time and space might be a good idea.

Because she loved me, she said.

Because she wanted me to know for sure.

Because she wanted me to be happy...

With or without her...

But which one is it???

I refuse to believe God didn't bring us back together for a reason,

And yet for as much as I love her and she loves me,

When we come to the fork in the road, I don't know.

Could you just come down here and tell me what to do please?

one year ago today...

We each have certain days throughout the year that don't mean anything in particular to anyone else, but for us may as well be nationally recognized holidays. We see the date on our calendar and we make a connection very few if any other people make. For me and my mother and my brother, June 22 is just such a day. It was one year ago today that my father passed away. I spent today commemorating his passing with my family, and while I know most of us don't care much for reading people's blogs unless we're mentioned in them, I figured I would share some of today with you.

To preface that, I found out recently that my dad had received some acknowledgement for all his civic work. I had always thought that his years of work providing food and clothing to disadvantaged individuals in inner-city Cleveland would have drawn some attention, but it turns out that at least this time my father got noticed for his environmental efforts. He had spent years pushing for improvements in the air quality in the neighborhood, and though he had started small talking to factory and power-plant administrators on behalf of the neighborhood committee, he ended up speaking at city council meetings and lobbying on his congressional district. Who would have thought that my dad - an evangelical minister, Reagan Republican, and outspoken conservative - would end up being applauded by environmentalists in one of the most homogenously Democratic congressional districts in the country? But it doesn't stop there. The Ohio EPA recently established a scholarship fund in his memory. And my mother just received a plaque bearing a transcript of a statement made to commemorate my father on the floor of the House of Representatives - yeah, THE House of Representatives. I was floored. I'm still floored.

All of that and more was weighing heavily on my mind when I picked my brother Josh up last night to drive him to our mom's house. Of course he bummed McDonald's off me before we even got on the freeway, but it's not like I didn't see that coming. We got home pretty late, but Mom let us in and we sat and talked until she got tired and went to bed. Josh and I proceeded to squabble over what to watch until he fell asleep, leaving me alone with my thoughts and nothing decent on TV to distract me from them. I just kept remembering the rush of sensations and emotions, how sudden it all was, how helpless I was to do anything, how completely paralyzed we all were, crushed under the weight of it all. I was comforted knowing it had been much less of an ordeal for my dad. There was a little bit of distraction from all that today, though. Somehow, my mother was talked into adopting not one, but two cats - a young mother and the smallest of her kittens.

Now, I'm a dog person. I do not hate cats. I do not even particularly dislike cats. In small doses somewhere across the room, doing whatever it is they do, A cat is fine with me. But I wasn't really sure how to take this. Clearly, neither was Jake.

The poor dog was just being curious, trying to get acquainted with these new animals that had been deposited into his house, when he got swatted across the nose by a non-declawed cat for the first time in most of his doggy years! I was afraid he'd snap at the cats, but he just backed away and gave me this forlorn "What did I do?" look. Clearly, it was time for a walk. We'd been waiting for it all day, so finally we got in the van and headed to the cemetery. No, we didn't leave Jake alone with the cats. He needed a break, and was glad to have it.

We got to the cemetery and just visited my dad like we'd done, together and separately, many times over the course of the past year. Of course, I don't believe that my dad is really there, but his physical remains are, so it's almost like a direct line to him from there, it seems. Okay, that might sound a bit shamanistic. You know how some places you can't really get more than one bar of signal on your phone, but other places you've got four or five? That place, that stone, is a five-bar location for me.

It wasn't as hard as I was afraid it might be, but it was still pretty difficult to find words to say, even a year later. I still miss him like crazy, and I let him know. But I know that I'm still here, and I am starting to feel like the paralysis has finally worn off. I'm never going to be 'over' losing my dad. There will always be that emptiness there, and to me that signifies how tremendously important was the role in my life that he played. But I'm finally getting to the point where I can start to move forward, whatever that may mean, and I think today really helped me do that. We got back from the cemetery, I threw my stuff in the car (minus my hanging clothes - good thing there's one work shirt and decent pair of khakis hanging in the closet here), and I headed back to Columbus. There's really not much more to be said for everything that's run through my mind today. But if you don't mind, I'm going to leave you with a few pictures. Thanks for taking some time to read this.

 

 

 

 

Peace.

sick and tired...

I'm sick.

I'm tired.

I'm sick of the uncertainties that cloud my life.

I'm tired of allowing myself to stumble around because of them.

I'm sick of being bombarded by one thing after another after another.

I'm tired of letting my own course of actions be swayed by my circumstances.

I'm sick of never feeling good enough for myself or anyone else.

I'm tired of allowing my own insecurities to spill over into how I treat the people who care about me.

I'm sick of losing things and people that matter to me to things I can't control.

I'm tired of losing things and people that matter to me to things I can and should control.

I'm sick of feeling like God isn't there.

I'm tired of not being willing to see Him in spite of my own doubts.

I'm sick of taking it.

I'm tired of turning around and dishing it out.

I'm sick of all the mistakes I've made.

I'm tired of living in yesterday.

I'm sick of worrying about what else tomorrow might dump on me.

I'm tired of borrowing trouble from tomorrow.

I'm sick of falling.

I'm tired of not getting back up.

I'm sick of blaming myself when blame resolves nothing.

I'm tired of blaming others when blame resolves nothing.

I'm sick of needing help.

I'm tired of not seeking it.

I'm sick of my life.

I'm tired of the way I've been living it.

God, I really wish my circumstances would change.

Or are You trying to help me to just trust You?

Either way, I'm ready for a change.

And since only You can change my circumstances,

Maybe I should do the best thing I can and just let You change me.

a letter? a poem? not sure...

So now you're up there, and I'm down here.

I found it hard to wait sometimes when you were away on a workshop,

Or a pastors' retreat, or something like that.

Nose to the glass, standing at the window waiting for the car to come around the corner and down the street.

Now you're a lot farther away. And it's probably gonna be a while.

I couldn't put on a brave face if I tried, and I know you wouldn't want me to.

This is really hard, without you here.

Who's gonna give me advice or talk some sense into me or just be there to listen and cheer me on?

I've lost one of THE most important people in all the world.

But you are up there.

And I know who you're there with.

And no matter how much you love Mom and me and Josh,

I know you're so much happier there with Grandma and Grandpa and most of all with God.

So where does that leave us, then?

You're up there and I'm down here.

And I see you left behind some REALLY big shoes.

They seem to get bigger with every day and everyone who tells me how great you were.

Not news to me, of course - I was here for all of it.

Everyone says their dad's the greatest,

And a lot of them do seem really great even to me.

But they've got their work cut out for them if they're gonna share the honors with you.

These are some big, big shoes.

Never mind that you wore nines and I wear twelves.

Without you a lot of people wouldn't know love and wouldn't know God - including and especially me.

I don't know where I'd be without you in my life.

I still don't... but now you really aren't here.

How can I thank you for all the things you did,

And all the things you were to me?

And what to do with these big old shoes?

It's like your life was a platinum single.

How could I come up with a cover that would do the original justice?

I couldn't of course... but you wouldn't want me to try.

You always told me just to be the me God made me to be.

Maybe you're right - as per usual,

But all the same I owe so much to you.

And these shoes you left aren't going anywhere.

Somebody's gotta fill them.

Well it's true - I'm not you.

And I never could be.

But maybe, just maybe,

Some of your life could still show through in mine.

Love God, love family, love everybody.

Care for the people nobody else seems to notice.

Give everything and then give myself.

That's what you did - so can I.

So whatever I do with my own life-

Musician, minister, scholar, writer, or just another computer nerd-

If I can somehow live the way you did,

Then part of you is still here, in me, isn't it?

And even though you're up there and I'm down here,

It's nowhere near a permanent separation.

Though sometimes it can feel like a v-e-r-y long one.

Once again, I'll be really excited to see you again.

Except you won't be coming back to me.

I'll be taking the express elevator up to you.

Could be years, could be decades until then.

But whenever we do see each other again we'll have a lot of catching up to do.

Fortunately we'll have a v-e-r-y, v  -  e  -  r  -  y long time to catch up.

Miss you always,

Love you always,

Thanks for being you.

Phil