What Was Left Behind

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

What Was Left Behind

We have been asked to present some writings in our grief support group and the latest entry required us to write about the things that our deceased loved ones left behind. These could be clothing, photos, mementos, etc. Donna asked us to include what the items were and how they made us feel... a sense of comfort, wave of negative emotions, smiles, what emotions were brought about.

Entry:

What was left behind becomes a part of the legacy dad has given me.

I have many things from my dad that I hold dear. Some of them make me laugh and some make me cry. Either way I cherish each memory and hold them close to my heart because they are the lasting parts of the relationship that I had with my dad. I saved many notes and cards that my dad wrote to me over the years. The messages from dad are both heartwarming and heart wrenching, but I cherish these mementos because they remind me of how blessed I was to be so close with my father. All in his own handwriting, my dad shared his love, words of encouragement, advice, bible verses, and sometimes a silly message just to make me smile. He could never have known how much his written words mean to me now.

Then there are the photographs, memories frozen in time depicting moments where we laughed, loved, worked and played. I am grateful to have so many photographs of my father because they definitely bring me comfort and there are many that make me smile. At this moment, any photograph with my dad in it brings tears because my heart longs to have him here. There is still the ache of wanting to hold his hand in mine, share a hug or hear his voice. A part of me still expects the routine morning phone call from my dad just to check in.

Some particular items of my dad's that I chose to keep were an angel coin given to him by a cancer nurse, a favorite "U.S. Open" golfing cap, a yellow button down cardigan, and a pen that I had given him as a gift. I suppose these items are special to me because they are tangible and somehow make me feel nearer to him. These things are here even though dad is gone and they do bring a sense of comfort to my broken heart. I can wear the cap and sweater, hold the coin and use the pen. I still picture dad sitting at the kitchen table in his home writing bills, envision him on that golf course wearing the cap, remember him wearing the sweater to his youngest grandson's baptism, and recall the day I took him to the cancer center for his first chemo treatment. All these things remind me that he was real and he was here. What was left behind remains a part of my dad and now a part of me…