Upon Reflection

I like to think of dad sitting up in heaven right now in a body that is totally repaired, free of old defects and injuries and pain.  It was something to see all of the pictures of him when he was young, before time began to take its inevitable toll.  He's content now, anxiety free, resting comfortably, standing tall, moving easily.  One of my visions of heaven is as a place where I'm just completely relaxed.  No fear of the future - no regret about the past.

I see today how much he missed my mom.  It was a hard year for him without her and it would have been a hard year for him even if she had still been around.  When they were together he could be short with her so it was easy to get the impression that they didn't have much to go on.  Why would I think that two people who had been together for 65 years would be that way?

It was weird to think of him as an athlete and a sportsman - he golfed, played volleyball and softball and handball, was an avid fisherman and hunter.  I shot a gun once 50 years ago - knocked me back on my ass.  I rarely eat meat for chrissake - why would I want to go shoot an animal?  And I have the hand eye coordination of a bonobo on LSD so sports was never one of my strong suits.  It must have been frustrating for him at times raising a son who didn't have any of the same interests.  I remember climbing into the batter's box during a Little League game, terrified wondering why I was being forced to play a sport that was incredibly hard for me.  Was I even asked if I wanted to play?  If so did I say yes only to please him?  Why didn't someone buy me a guitar or pay for piano lessons when I so clearly loved music?

We're all doing the best we can.  We all have unreasonable expectations of other.  He disappointed me sometimes?  Well, I disappointed him sometimes.

I went to a tiny high school that was forced to travel long distances to find games to play against similarly sized schools, often ending up in small out of the way rural towns, in the upper Midwest in the winter, at night, in the dark.  This was before the age of the super-involved parent who today seems to live right on top of their children.  My dad was almost always in the stands to watch me play basketball, a sport I could at least compete in, if only by stint of the fact that I was tall.  There weren't any other fathers there, either.  THAT'S what I should remember about my dad.

I should learn to look at the good and look at the bad, too, as a general spiritual principle. Don't focus on the bad but don't pretend that it doesn't exist, either.