Owl

The last few weeks have been incredibly tough for our family. And it has been especially hard for me to write down someway to express the anger, hurt and sadness I am feeling, but I thought if I write maybe I'll find some peace, and someday when my children read this blog that was meant to be for them they will understand why I went pretty much silent during this time.

Three weeks ago I got a call from my brother, which at the time was rare enough to make me wonder immediately what was wrong. The type of call no one wants to get. My father had passed away in the night. Not only had he passed away, he did so by his own hand. His own decision. He left many many notes of explanations, apologies, and tangents about hapiness, things he loved, songs and poems he wrote, the moon, etc. He had been planning his exit for quite a long time. Among these notes we learned he had multiple sclerosis, and has been dealing with it silently for 16 years. So much of the conversation I don't even remember and really don't want to, and the next day I was on a plane to Reno to plan his memorial, deal with the remains, and sort through his estate (most of which he had already sorted out for us). That week was also very much a blur, and since I've been home there has been so much catching up to do with work and school and house, I still feel like I am in a blur. A dream. A state of numbness in which I am going through motions but not present in life at all. My mind is curled up in the fetal position in my bed. There are days that almost feel like normal or what normal used to be, and then I'll see his notes staring at me from the table, or a bill will come in with his name on it and I go into a fog again.

I have tried many methods to sort out my emotions and to help me cope. I cry when I need to cry, I sleep more, I spend time with Kiley to add some joy back in my life, I talk with Chad about anything and everything I am feeling, I try to count my blessings. I am so so so lucky to have Chad, who has also never had to deal with this before but has been everything I need when I need it-a shoulder to cry on, a hug, a sounding board, a voice of reason and balance, a kind suggestion of something to make me feel better, an encourager to tell him what I am thinking/feeling, a bit of normalcy for myself and Kiley. I know he is shocked and saddened like me but he is doing better than I would have ever expected at being what I need. During one tear filled night, he suggested maybe I talk to my dad. My brother had mentioned he was talking to the moon every night because that is where he sees Dad, and Chad thought that was a great idea. He believes when people we love pass, their spirits stay with us in some way and they are always listening. I scoffed at the idea, because I don't feel my dad anywhere. I don't know if I believe in his spirit being here in some way listening to me. I just don't feel/see/imagine him anywhere.

And then something happened...

The other night we ate dinner out on our patio and watched Kiley and the dogs play in the yard, and out of the corner of my eye I notice a huge bird fly into one of our almost 40 year old maple tree. It took me a minute to figure out it was an owl, perching in the perfect spot just above our dead garden and neighbors pasture where all the field mice are. My first thought was, "Thank you owl, for making sure the mice keep their distance from my house." I watched him for a while, at peace knowing he was protecting and watching over our place. Since that evening I haven't been able to stop thinking about the owl. He's just out there waiting for his next meal keeping an eye on our area, content in his patience and wisdom. I started comparing the owl to my dad. He was always so wise, and content, and protective (he was a father after all), and, as he had written about several times, enjoyed the light of the moon. I even looked up the meaning or symbolism of owls, and while it differs with different cultures and religions, it has been a symbol of guidance to the afterlife, a sign of wisdom and intelligence, protection, transition, mystery, secrets and messages.

I've never been into the woo-woo stuff. I don't seek out meanings in things, or attach symbolic meaning to objects, I am not particularly spiritual or religious. But I liked this idea. I get some comfort thinking my dad is like the owl, navigating the afterlife, keeping an eye on us and contently waiting there if we need anything. Holding on to secrets, his and mine, should I tell him any, and giving me the message to pay attention to things like that. He was always the first to notice a beautiful flower, or a sweet smell in the air, or a rare bird in a tree. I feel like somehow he is around me pointing out things again and showing me the world gives us so many messages but we have to take the time to notice them and enjoy them. And as I write this for my children, I realize how much I want to teach them that as well. Not to go through life too quickly, to slow down, celebrate the small things, be patient, be content, be smart, and most of all be happy with all the world and life has to offer.

I am still a long way from being alright with this situation. I still have so much to sort through physically and emotionally but the owl gave me hope that every once in a while something will come along that will nudge me in the direction of being alright.