Finding Home

More like a “poof.”

Finding Home. Good morning from cloudy Vermont. My uncle Roger died several years ago. He played a positive, pivotal role in my life. His brother and best friend, my dad, died late Tuesday afternoon, March 28th. I get confused as to which man I’m grieving for. Dad’s death surprised the hell out of us, less like a long moan and more like a “poof.” Some people have told me that this was a blessing, but I disagree. I wanted him one more day, in any condition.

Dad loved me by hugs, by words, by teaching me things, and by building things for me. He renovated our garage so I could park my car in it each night and keep my head dry. He built our kitchen table, piecing together a secret message underneath with blocks of cedar. “I love you Lisa. Your dad. 6/4/15!” All through his life he created and invented, his forte being music. He gave me my first guitar, a Martin, and taught me to play. Together we traveled many a mile on our instruments.

Calling hours are tomorrow, and the funeral Sunday, which is why I’m posting early today. I tell my kids, who are grieving hard, that time will do the work and fill in our gaping hole, replacing pain with memory. That doesn’t help much this morning. I keep expecting that he’ll stop in for his cup of tea…

My dad was a good man, a good citizen, and a fine father. If I could snatch him back from Heaven, I’d do it. But I know he’s having the time of his life with his brother Roger at the coffee counter of God. I better not interrupt him.



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6 thoughts on “More like a “poof.”

  1. Corlies Delf on said:

    Oh my, Lisa, that’s a big loss. Thank you for sharing your own sweet memories of your dad. I’m holding you, and all of you, in my heart tonight, sending you armloads of love and tender encouragement to go ahead and tell the stories, even the ones that make you cry, and treasure the dear people you’ll see this weekend. It’s an important moment for you all. Love abounds.

  2. Amanda Kent on said:

    My Papa left with a sigh. I too wanted more of him, but death which is quick is often more of a blessing then watching him become less of himself as he slowly dies. It’s been three years after my sweet Artie’s death and I can still miss him terribly, but I also can still feel his hugs, his pride in me and I still talk out loud with him when I need a voice of reason. He too was a much loved man by many and I still am touched by the many folks who continue to remember him and the effect he had on their lives. In this way he continues to live on forever. Your Dad too will live on in his gentle touches he has made to all of his children, nieces, nephews, cousins and community. Your table is now a legacy of his love for you. A physical reminder every day when you sit down with your family how much he loved you all and wanted to be with you always- now in spirit as your guardian angel.

    • Amanda–your dad was full to the top of how to live a good life. I’m so glad I got to spend some time with him. You are so right–I have so many good memories of dad, and my table and his note remind me daily of how much he loved me.

  3. Maggie on said:

    What a beautiful tribute to this man who was bigger than life and who loved bigger than imaginable! How blessed you were to have had him as your dad, to have lived close enough to have had him stop by any time. What a huge impact he has made on you and your family. Thank you for sharing him with us. Our life is better for knowing him.

    May God’s peace and love, which is even more huge than your dad’s, comfort you and heal your heart.

    We love you!

    • Thanks so much, Maggie. I’ve been over to my mom’s almost every day since he died, and we are telling each other stories and remembering both how much we loved him and how much he drove us crazy sometimes. We are in the hard edge of missing him.

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