Post tributes here about your loved ones.

[Phoenix]

I got to thinking that at this age a lot of the people we love have died. With some of them for me at least, it's been hard to find any kind of tribute to them anywhere online. It occurred to me that here, on this site, we could write those tributes, maybe multiple tributes to include a number of people for each of us. It would honor them and provide us catharsis. Feel free to add pictures. Below is an example of what I mean.

With one guy I knew I was only able to find out about his death when his mother passed away. There was a tribute to her, and it was mentioned that he preceded her in death. I was shocked. She lived to be 99. He died at 69. I looked a little further and discovered a site called Find a Grave. It only listed his name. He was all about family. So I have no idea what happened...why his family didn't write an obituary...or something.

I added information to the Find A Grave on his family. I added a picture of him. I also posted a variation of what I've written below and posted it on Find A Grave. They post it under We Remember by Ancestry.

A Tribute to Bill

A man of remarkable intelligence Bill had two masters degrees, one in education and one creative writing. During his professional career he worked as a high school teacher and college professor. He created a program through Portland State University to help graduates find jobs.

A man who loved fishing and to spend time outdoor, Bill was a person of honor, integrity, intellectual acumen, compassion and kindness. His compassion and kindness became apparent to me when I took a class from him at PSU, the first term of my master's program in Counselor Education. For me, it was a time of severe tragedy at the hand of my brother. His approach to teaching was refreshing. He was genuine, knowledgeable and treated his students as equals. When he returned my final paper to me on the last day of class, a paper about my brother and the crimes he had committed, there was a note on the bottom. "See me about this." When his schedule was finally free I met him in his office. A look of compassion in his eyes, he asked me if I was okay. I was not. I relayed the tragedy to him. After listening, he said, "You are part of a select fraternity whose members never meet, the families of murderers." He said that counselors would not know how to address what I'd been through. He was right. We became friends. He provided an ear when I needed to talk about it, something my friends and extended family were unable/unwilling to do. At the time I was embroiled in helping my heartbroken parents through the nightmare and trying not to drown, myself. All these years later Bill's kindness is still with me. When he moved on to the next level, the world lost one of its truest lights.

 

[Keesha]

This is a tribute to my brother whom I lost as a teenager.

He was 1 1/2 years older than me and I wish I was closer to him but we didn’t have a close family.

He had a great sense of humour and was so easy going. He was very athletic and would sometimes give me a five minutes head start in a running race to school which was 1 mile away and always beat me.

He played trombone in the senior and jazz band which he was so good at, he won a scholarship to music camp. When he was young he played ukulele and banjo really well and later moved to base guitar - a rickenbacher (sp). He was very creative and talented.

When I was younger he taught me to fight and used to put bets that I’d winBoth my brothers took karate and other martial arts which put an end to my father‘s nonsense. Lol.

Oddly enough I got along well with all the girlfriends he dated. He had great judgment of character with others and treated people well. Of course the fact that he was over 6’2” and worked out helped. He stuck up for me at times which made me feel validated.

When we were younger we used to swim to an island and back which was quite a distance. We also used to take a big truck inner tube far out into the lake. We were so far out that we could see the horizon. We also got into a lot of trouble but I never cared as long as we were on the same side.

My brother was a gentle soul. He looked more like an American Indian than British and had the thickest hair in our family. He was a fun person to be with and never had anything bad to say about anyone.

Unfortunately he drove out west on a motorcycle and got ran off the road by a transport truck and killed. I miss him so much and often wonder what it would have been like if he had survived.

 

[Phoenix]

This is a tribute to my brother whom I lost as a teenager.

He was 1 1/2 years older than me and I wish I was closer to him but we didn’t have a close family.

He had a great sense of humour and was so easy going. He was very athletic and would sometimes give me a five minutes head start in a running race to school which was 1 mile away and always beat me.

He played trombone in the senior and jazz band which he was so good at, he won a scholarship to music camp. When he was young he played ukulele and banjo really well and later moved to base guitar - a rickenbacher (sp). He was very creative and talented.

When I was younger he taught me to fight and used to put bets that I’d winBoth my brothers took karate and other martial arts which put an end to my father‘s nonsense. Lol.

Oddly enough I got along well with all the girlfriends he dated. He had great judgment of character with others and treated people well. Of course the fact that he was over 6’2” and worked out helped. He stuck up for me at times which made me feel validated.

When we were younger we used to swim to an island and back which was quite a distance. We also used to take a big truck inner tube far out into the lake. We were so far out that we could see the horizon. We also got into a lot of trouble but I never cared as long as we were on the same side.

My brother was a gentle soul. He looked more like an American Indian than British and had the thickest hair in our family. He was a fun person to be with and never had anything bad to say about anyone.

Unfortunately he drove out west on a motorcycle and got ran off the road by a transport truck and killed. I miss him so much and often wonder what it would have been like if he had survived.

What a lovely tribute. Thank you for sharing him with us. Do you ever feel him still with you? My bet is that he is. He loves you.

 

[Keesha]

What a lovely tribute. Thank you for sharing him with us. Do you ever feel him still with you? My bet is that he is. He loves you.

Thank you. He was a beautiful human being. I tell myself that he must have learned all his earthly lessons early and moved on to his next stage of life.

Do I ever feel him? Absolutely. The very day he died was like he transported himself to be with me for the entire day. I was visiting an area that day that we used to go to often with our group of friends and that particular day it was like he was right there with me enjoying the entire day. I think most of us go through something similar when we lose someone very close to us, even with our pets.

Oddly enough I went through a lot of guilt in the following years over his death and used to pray that he’d visit me in my dreams however I went through years of having nightmares about him. In my dreams he didn’t want to see me because I was a bad person. It got so bad that I cursed my mind not to remember my dreams, so I don’t and to this day I rarely remember them.

While caring for my parents I scooped some old photos of him and a few items he made in woodworking class.

I’m feeling somewhat guilty praising a brother after you explaining the tragedy you went through with yours but I’m glad you had someone who cared and showed compassion to you while you went through it. Some people really are like human angels to us in our time of need.

 

[Gary O']

Post tributes here about your loved ones


I gotta say....my Dad

I've written about him;

Dad

My first remembrance of my dad was seein’ him come home from work through the kitchen door.
Guess I was about three.
He was a giant in my eyes, shirt sleeves rolled up, curly auburn hair combed straight back,
kindly smile bearing witness to his good feeling of getting home.
My circle of life was complete when he arrived.

I never really ever ran up to him like a lot of kids do, as I revered his presence.
He was my god.

He was a simple man, and we lived simply.
It was all us kids needed, ever.
Oh he had dreams, big dreams, and later on a good portion were realized, but with the sacrifice of a working man.
That’s what it took.

I revered his very presence.

And it was intimidating.

So, me and God are going down the road.

Mom, in her momliness, ‘Don’t forget your coat and cap!’

The morning became quite warm.

I don’t know where we’re goin’…never knew…..never asked.

The sun is beating down through the windshield.

Sweat is beginning to pour outta my cap and into my coat.

‘How ya doin’ over there?’

‘G-o-o-d.’

‘What are you thinking about?’

(THINKING????!!!)

(GOD IS ASKING ME A QUESTION!!!)

(THINK MAN, THINK!!)

(Whaddya think Adlai’s chances are?....How ‘bout them Mets?...what then???!...I got nuthin’)

‘Are you warm enough?’

(He’s got me. I’ve got this damn coat and cap on, don’t I…?!)

‘Maybe you should roll down the window.’ (words heavily dripping in sarcasm)

(Well, there it is. God is looking upon his idiot mongoloidal first born son.
Hopes of a bright future dashed against the rolled up window.)

The breeze was refreshing.

I really wanted to hang my face out the window, but dare not make a move that may totally confirm his thought pattern at present.

Things went like that with me and God….for quite a few years really.

Then, early in life, during his midlife crisis years, we converged....compared notes.

Wrote a bit more on his failing years;

A few years ago a lad from Scotland, I’d gotten to know, asked me how my Dad was doing,
as I’d shared with him my Dad’s failings in what turned out to be his final year.

Maybe some of you folks can identify with what I wrote him.

In any event, I feel compelled to put it here, and probably in my next book.

You see, my Dad was my hero.

Oh, I wasn’t his favorite, but that didn’t matter.

For many years he was God to me, could do no wrong, I hid my wrongs from him.

Sure, as I grew, I saw his faults, but, heh, they were few.

And mine became less as I used him as a life model.
Here’s what I Emailed;

He’s a gamer, Shaun.

Days ago he was on his death bed.

Chemo and infection was taking him down…..quick.

He’s on the rebound.

To where……. I have no idea.

I visited him last weekend while he was staying at the rehab center (nursing home).

Didn’t readily recognize him.

No hair
Tiny head
Sunken eyes
Chair stickin’ half way outta the room, lookin’ out into the hall.
He looks like wunna those children with an aging disease.
He really lit up when he saw me.
I immediately felt real bad for not coming sooner.
He got up and scooted his chair back into the room, shuffling, pushing.
He invited me to sit.
There was only one extra chair
I think it had a piece of shit on it.
He had some sorta string of dried drool and blood comin’ from his lower lip, ending at his chin.
It made me sick to my stomach to look at him.
My Dad
My finicky Dad
The guy that remained well scrubbed, no matter what he did.
The guy with the weakest of stomachs.
The guy that just couldn’t eat if he thought the cook hadn’t washed his hands.
There he was……..disgusting
and so very happy to see me.
I wanted to stay and leave at the same time.
We went on a conversation loop.

He has about ten minutes of thought processing, then it starts all over again.

I grabbed his attention by saying I was thinking about going to church.

He did a feeble punch into the air, and displayed a flash of his tenacious old self, gritting his teeth and smiling with delight.

His old eyes lit up again, then welled, spilling tears as he told me how happy that made him.

Now I was disgusted with myself.

I wanted to cry along with him. I just can’t. It’s not in me.

I hadn’t lied.

I do think about it.

I think about conversation with rabid religionaires, and know why none of it is for me.

It was a visit of diverse emotions.

The nurse’s aide came in.

He questioningly introduced me as his cousin.

Well, in twenty minutes I’d completely muddled what’s left of his blithering mind.

I gave him a slight hug and left him with the aide.

Driving home, my thoughts were fixed on him.

What he is

What he once was

What I am

What I’m going to become

I recalled him and his cousin, his brother he never had, and how they talked about their aged parents

There is no fairness

There is just fact

Inescapable inevitable fact

It made me realize my own fallibility

I really don’t want to see him again

I will though

As long as I can make him happy, whether it’s a veiled lie, or just being there, I will see him, hug him, chat with him.

He has earned that…at the very least.

He’s a withered dying old man.

Cancer will take him.

I don’t think I have the guts for this, and what’s next, deteriorating visits

What have we done to think it good to keep my hero existing in his filth with confounded thoughts for as long as medically possible……

The Aleuts know what to do

The long walk and the bonk on the bean.

It’s much more heroic……respectful.
Thanks for asking, kid.
Enjoy thy youth
a bit more;

Thoughts on dad, death and dying excerpt

The End

Dad’s on his way out.

The guy that helped to explain death to this toddler (‘He’s dead.’) is gonna experience it himself, pretty soon now.

OK, so he wasn’t much with words, but sometimes the look on his face spoke volumes.

One time, years ago now (think I was 9), he’d come home from work. In those days he rode the bus.

He’d just talked with this lady that he’d been riding with for months. Right after they said their daily g’byes, a bus hit her, splattering her remains all over the street.

Dad had a terrible look fixed to his face.

He couldn’t eat.

‘arm here, leg there’

He kept reliving it, over and over.

‘I’d just talked to her’

Mom seemed a bit cold about it, like the lady was a possible affair of Dad’s.

I imagine her mind went places like ‘he probably talked to her more than he talks to me’.

‘yer not gonna eat?’

‘can’t’

‘fine’

Him and I visited grampa when he was wasting away in the nursing home.

The place wreaked of pee….old man pee….old woman pee (shudder).

The facility was remarkably clean, but I guess all that pee had permeated the walls.

You sorta got used to it…sorta.

Hours after we left I’d still get an occasional whiff of old person pee.

There grampa was, in the railed hospital bed, sunken toothless mouth open, hardly breathin’.

I don’t know how Dad did it.

He’d stop there every day after work, and ‘visit’ his dad, bringing me on the weekends.

Dad would get right in his ear… ‘DAD, DO YOU REMEMBER GARY?’

Grampa may have moved an eye lid.

I noticed he still had muscular arms,

his neck still thick as a bull’s.

Everything else was dissipated, atrophied, large hands curled up like he was writing something.

He stayed that way for months it seemed.
My dad is bald now.

Third of six weeks of chemo.

A real salvo.

He can’t keep food down…or up.

It’s a crap shoot.

No, really.

He shits with the regularity of exhalation.

Peeing out his ass, basically.

It’s a hell of a gamble too.

Waste away while the cancer gnaws at yer guts, or attack and see who/what wins.

It’ll be down to the wire….at 90.

His wife just called.

He’s back in the hospital.

Getting pumped with electrolytes…….and chemo.

He loves life so.

I can see him lingering like grampa.

Wonder if I’ll visit his bedside daily, like he did for his dad.

I feel I should.

He’s been a really good dad.

A nice man.

A simple man.

Hard worker

Determined

He’s always presented a rosy outlook, somewhat like a salesman.

Without knowing it, I’ve kinda studied him.

We’ve never really had any heart to heart talks.

I don’t think I’ve missed anything.

We’ve had talks, it’s just that he’s always been the one doing the talking.

One more.....

Dad

As I look at you there, a bit shriveled, somewhat vacant eyed, I wonder,
wonder why you struggle so.
What’s left for you that’s so precious?

I think about you and me, so many years ago now.

Visiting grampa in the nursing home.

You, yelling in his ear.

Hoping for a sign, a flicker of recognition.

Him, shallow breath. Not moving a muscle.

I can only think that the prevailing reason for the struggle is the love of life itself

I have yet to finish this, but I will someday

 

[MarciKS]

For me it would be my little Madaline. I will never get to hold her or see her little face or count her tiny little fingers & toes. Never get to see her grow up. Never get to hug her & tell her mommy loves her. She is forever in my heart. God needed her back I guess. At least I know she's safe with Him. In my lifetime I think that was the worst pain I've had to bear.

 

[Phoenix]

Thank you. He was a beautiful human being. I tell myself that he must have learned all his earthly lessons early and moved on to his next stage of life.

Do I ever feel him? Absolutely. The very day he died was like he transported himself to be with me for the entire day. I was visiting an area that day that we used to go to often with our group of friends and that particular day it was like he was right there with me enjoying the entire day. I think most of us go through something similar when we lose someone very close to us, even with our pets.

Oddly enough I went through a lot of guilt in the following years over his death and used to pray that he’d visit me in my dreams however I went through years of having nightmares about him. In my dreams he didn’t want to see me because I was a bad person. It got so bad that I cursed my mind not to remember my dreams, so I don’t and to this day I rarely remember them.

While caring for my parents I scooped some old photos of him and a few items he made in woodworking class.

I’m feeling somewhat guilty praising a brother after you explaining the tragedy you went through with yours but I’m glad you had someone who cared and showed compassion to you while you went through it. Some people really are like human angels to us in our time of need.

Guilt is a normal response to someone's death. It's often thoughts of "If only I had just...." fill in the blanks. There are all kinds of things that people often feel on the road to acceptance. I'm glad you feel/have felt him with you. Do you know the song, I Believe, Diamond Rio It brings great comfort to me. The gathering of pictures is also what I did when my boyfriend died of cancer. I tacked them up all over the house. Mom looked at photo albums for several days when Dad died. I felt a lot of guilt with my brother. The friendship I made with the professor was developing. He was not there during the first days of it and he was not there during the trial. I had to tend to my parents and all the horror. The friendship grew later, when I was completely broken. I am grateful to him.

Now, I'm not a religious person. The religion of my youth failed me. But I developed a spirituality over time. The laws of physics say that nothing is ever lost it just changes form and substance. To me that means it is true of everything and everyone. I've come to believe that everything that happens to us can teach us something incredibly valuable if we view it that way. That is what I have chosen to believe. When things get tough, which they always do, again and again, I look for what I can learn and how I can grow. I hold those who have passed on in a treasured place in my heart. I dream about them sometimes. Your brother blessed you, and you blessed your brother.

 

[Phoenix]

Post tributes here about your loved ones


I gotta say....my Dad

I've written about him;

Dad


My first remembrance of my dad was seein’ him come home from work through the kitchen door.
Guess I was about three.
He was a giant in my eyes, shirt sleeves rolled up, curly auburn hair combed straight back,
kindly smile bearing witness to his good feeling of getting home.
My circle of life was complete when he arrived.



Dad


As I look at you there, a bit shriveled, somewhat vacant eyed, I wonder,
wonder why you struggle so.
What’s left for you that’s so precious?


I think about you and me, so many years ago now.


Visiting grampa in the nursing home.


You, yelling in his ear.


Hoping for a sign, a flicker of recognition.


Him, shallow breath. Not moving a muscle.


I can only think that the prevailing reason for the struggle


is the love


of life itself








I have yet to finish this








But I will





someday

Thank you for sharing the slices of life about your dad. It's so hard to watch someone who was once so strong and vibrant fade physically and mentally. I remember the smells of the nursing homes when I was a kid. Thankfully by the time Mom was in one, regulations no longer allowed the facilities to function that way. The father you love needs you now, even if he forgets who you are. I suggest you hold your love and his love close as you visit him, so you can endure what seems to be impossible to endure. We get through these things somehow, even though it breaks our hearts again and again. Take care of yourself, dear one.

 

[Phoenix]

For me it would be my little Madaline. I will never get to hold her or see her little face or count her tiny little fingers & toes. Never get to see her grow up. Never get to hug her & tell her mommy loves her. She is forever in my heart. God needed her back I guess. At least I know she's safe with Him. In my lifetime I think that was the worst pain I've had to bear.

I'm so sorry for you lost your little baby before she had a chance to be a part of your life. I am glad you hold her in your heart. Take care of yourself. You are worth it.

 

[Gary O']

The father you love needs you now, even if he forgets who you are

He passed away not long after I wrote that, but, yes, it was vital for both of us.
Thank you for the lovely words, Phoenix

 

[Treacle]

Post tributes here about your loved ones


I gotta say....my Dad

I've written about him;

Dad


My first remembrance of my dad was seein’ him come home from work through the kitchen door.
Guess I was about three.
He was a giant in my eyes, shirt sleeves rolled up, curly auburn hair combed straight back,
kindly smile bearing witness to his good feeling of getting home.
My circle of life was complete when he arrived.


I never really ever ran up to him like a lot of kids do, as I revered his presence.
He was my god.


He was a simple man, and we lived simply.
It was all us kids needed, ever.
Oh he had dreams, big dreams, and later on a good portion were realized, but with the sacrifice of a working man.
That’s what it took.

I revered his very presence.


And it was intimidating.


So, me and God are going down the road.


Mom, in her momliness, ‘Don’t forget your coat and cap!’


The morning became quite warm.


I don’t know where we’re goin’…never knew…..never asked.


The sun is beating down through the windshield.


Sweat is beginning to pour outta my cap and into my coat.


‘How ya doin’ over there?’


‘G-o-o-d.’


‘What are you thinking about?’


(THINKING????!!!)


(GOD IS ASKING ME A QUESTION!!!)


(THINK MAN, THINK!!)


(Whaddya think Adlai’s chances are?....How ‘bout them Mets?...what then???!...I got nuthin’)


‘Are you warm enough?’


(He’s got me. I’ve got this damn coat and cap on, don’t I…?!)


‘Maybe you should roll down the window.’ (words heavily dripping in sarcasm)


(Well, there it is. God is looking upon his idiot mongoloidal first born son.
Hopes of a bright future dashed against the rolled up window.)


The breeze was refreshing.


I really wanted to hang my face out the window, but dare not make a move that may totally confirm his thought pattern at present.


Things went like that with me and God….for quite a few years really.


Then, early in life, during his midlife crisis years, we converged....compared notes.


Wrote a bit more on his failing years;

A few years ago a lad from Scotland, I’d gotten to know, asked me how my Dad was doing,
as I’d shared with him my Dad’s failings in what turned out to be his final year.


Maybe some of you folks can identify with what I wrote him.


In any event, I feel compelled to put it here, and probably in my next book.


You see, my Dad was my hero.


Oh, I wasn’t his favorite, but that didn’t matter.


For many years he was God to me, could do no wrong, I hid my wrongs from him.


Sure, as I grew, I saw his faults, but, heh, they were few.


And mine became less as I used him as a life model.






Here’s what I Emailed;


He’s a gamer, Shaun.


Days ago he was on his death bed.


Chemo and infection was taking him down…..quick.


He’s on the rebound.


To where……. I have no idea.

I visited him last weekend while he was staying at the rehab center (nursing home).


Didn’t readily recognize him.


No hair


Tiny head


Sunken eyes


Chair stickin’ half way outta the room, lookin’ out into the hall.


He looks like wunna those children with an aging disease.


He really lit up when he saw me.


I immediately felt real bad for not coming sooner.


He got up and scooted his chair back into the room, shuffling, pushing.


He invited me to sit.


There was only one extra chair


I think it had a piece of shit on it.


He had some sorta string of dried drool and blood comin’ from his lower lip, ending at his chin.


It made me sick to my stomach to look at him.


My Dad


My finicky Dad


The guy that remained well scrubbed, no matter what he did.


The guy with the weakest of stomachs.


The guy that just couldn’t eat if he thought the cook hadn’t washed his hands.


There he was……..disgusting


and so very happy to see me.


I wanted to stay and leave at the same time.


We went on a conversation loop.


He has about ten minutes of thought processing, then it starts all over again.


I grabbed his attention by saying I was thinking about going to church.


He did a feeble punch into the air, and displayed a flash of his tenacious old self, gritting his teeth and smiling with delight.


His old eyes lit up again, then welled, spilling tears as he told me how happy that made him.


Now I was disgusted with myself.


I wanted to cry along with him. I just can’t. It’s not in me.


I hadn’t lied.


I do think about it.


I think about conversation with rabid religionaires, and know why none of it is for me.


It was a visit of diverse emotions.


The nurse’s aide came in.


He questioningly introduced me as his cousin.


Well, in twenty minutes I’d completely muddled what’s left of his blithering mind.


I gave him a slight hug and left him with the aide.


Driving home, my thoughts were fixed on him.


What he is


What he once was


What I am


What I’m going to become


I recalled him and his cousin, his brother he never had, and how they talked about their aged parents


There is no fairness


There is just fact


Inescapable inevitable fact


It made me realize my own fallibility


I really don’t want to see him again


I will though


As long as I can make him happy, whether it’s a veiled lie, or just being there, I will see him, hug him, chat with him.


He has earned that…at the very least.


He’s a withered dying old man.


Cancer will take him.


I don’t think I have the guts for this, and what’s next, deteriorating visits


What have we done to think it good to keep my hero existing in his filth with confounded thoughts for as long as medically possible……






The Aleuts know what to do


The long walk and the bonk on the bean.


It’s much more heroic……respectful.






Thanks for asking, kid.






Enjoy thy youth




a bit more;

Thoughts on dad, death and dying excerpt




The End


Dad’s on his way out.


The guy that helped to explain death to this toddler (‘He’s dead.’) is gonna experience it himself, pretty soon now.


OK, so he wasn’t much with words, but sometimes the look on his face spoke volumes.


One time, years ago now (think I was 9), he’d come home from work. In those days he rode the bus.


He’d just talked with this lady that he’d been riding with for months. Right after they said their daily g’byes, a bus hit her, splattering her remains all over the street.


Dad had a terrible look fixed to his face.


He couldn’t eat.


‘arm here, leg there’


He kept reliving it, over and over.


‘I’d just talked to her’


Mom seemed a bit cold about it, like the lady was a possible affair of Dad’s.


I imagine her mind went places like ‘he probably talked to her more than he talks to me’.


‘yer not gonna eat?’


‘can’t’


‘fine’








Him and I visited grampa when he was wasting away in the nursing home.


The place wreaked of pee….old man pee….old woman pee (shudder).


The facility was remarkably clean, but I guess all that pee had permeated the walls.


You sorta got used to it…sorta.


Hours after we left I’d still get an occasional whiff of old person pee.


There grampa was, in the railed hospital bed, sunken toothless mouth open, hardly breathin’.


I don’t know how Dad did it.


He’d stop there every day after work, and ‘visit’ his dad, bringing me on the weekends.


Dad would get right in his ear… ‘DAD, DO YOU REMEMBER GARY?’


Grampa may have moved an eye lid.


I noticed he still had muscular arms,


his neck still thick as a bull’s.


Everything else was dissipated, atrophied, large hands curled up like he was writing something.


He stayed that way for months it seemed.











My dad is bald now.


Third of six weeks of chemo.


A real salvo.


He can’t keep food down…or up.


It’s a crap shoot.


No, really.


He shits with the regularity of exhalation.


Peeing out his ass, basically.


It’s a hell of a gamble too.


Waste away while the cancer gnaws at yer guts, or attack and see who/what wins.


It’ll be down to the wire….at 90.


His wife just called.


He’s back in the hospital.


Getting pumped with electrolytes…….and chemo.


He loves life so.


I can see him lingering like grampa.


Wonder if I’ll visit his bedside daily, like he did for his dad.


I feel I should.


He’s been a really good dad.


A nice man.


A simple man.


Hard worker


Determined


He’s always presented a rosy outlook, somewhat like a salesman.


Without knowing it, I’ve kinda studied him.


We’ve never really had any heart to heart talks.


I don’t think I’ve missed anything.


We’ve had talks, it’s just that he’s always been the one doing the talking.





One more.....



Dad


As I look at you there, a bit shriveled, somewhat vacant eyed, I wonder,
wonder why you struggle so.
What’s left for you that’s so precious?


I think about you and me, so many years ago now.


Visiting grampa in the nursing home.


You, yelling in his ear.


Hoping for a sign, a flicker of recognition.


Him, shallow breath. Not moving a muscle.


I can only think that the prevailing reason for the struggle


is the love


of life itself








I have yet to finish this








But I will





someday

Made me cry @Gary O' sorry ,but I believe when they go we will meet them again.

 

[Treacle]

My dear brother Peetee (Peter). My mum used that name and for some reason he asked how I knew that. Mum died when I was 18 months so I did not know mum called him that (perhaps mum was coming through me!!!!!) He left this earth last Sept which wasn't expected and I miss him. It was only me and him that tried to find out about mum. We travelled together to Vienna and Czech Republic and got a lot of info for the relatives who want to know about our Austrian/Czech past. I miss him so so much. I used to Skype and work on the German together, He was always better because he had 8 years in Vienna so had a Austrian accent, I unfortunately lived in London and could never pronounce the words correctly. Forgive me, must go starting to cry and can't see the keypad through the tears. but for all of you my heart goes out to you. Much love.

 

[Phoenix]

He passed away not long after I wrote that, but, yes, it was vital for both of us.
Thank you for the lovely words, Phoenix

You're welcome. I'm glad you spent the needed time with him. I'm sure it spoke volumes to him about how much you care. For me it's been 36 years since my dad died. Like your dad he was a hard working man. He was soft and gentle. I miss him. But he's with me now. When my husband was in surgery, he appeared to me in a faint vision with him and several others who had passed. It helps. Now I know some people think this kind of thing is just our minds way of coping. Could be, but for me it is real.

 

[Gary O']

I believe when they go we will meet them again.

It's my hope

 

[Phoenix]

My dear brother Peetee (Peter). My mum used that name and for some reason he asked how I knew that. Mum died when I was 18 months so I did not know mum called him that (perhaps mum was coming through me!!!!!) He left this earth last Sept which wasn't expected and I miss him. It was only me and him that tried to find out about mum. We travelled together to Vienna and Czech Republic and got a lot of info for the relatives who want to know about our Austrian/Czech past. I miss him so so much. I used to Skype and work on the German together, He was always better because he had 8 years in Vienna so had a Austrian accent, I unfortunately lived in London and could never pronounce the words correctly. Forgive me, must go starting to cry and can't see the keypad through the tears. but for all of you my heart goes out to you. Much love.

With the loss so fresh I know it's like someone ripped out your heart, left the veins and arteries dangling and poured acid into the wound. I'm so sorry for your loss. Do you feel him with you or is the loss too new that the pain overrides any communication with him? Sometimes at first what we want the most is blocked because of the overwhelming nature of the grief.

When did your mom die? Was it during WWII? My husband is of German ancestry, but his family had lived in Yugoslavia for 300 years when WWII broke out. His mom and some of his family were put in a concentration camp. Two of his grandfathers died there. His father was conscripted by Hitler. After the war his parents were given 5 acres and a small shack of land in Austria. My husband was born in Salzburg after the war. His family moved to the US when he was 3. I'm wondering if something similar happened in your family.

In any case I'm sending you love and light. Wrap yourself in it. It's more from the Universe and all that is. I'm just a vehicle.

 

[Treacle]

@Phoenix Mum died after a violent assault by my English father.It was 1959. I was 18months as stated before. She was born in Vienna about 1912. After the second world war Vienna was divided into sections as you probably know. Her relative (Uncle) was in a Soviet camp during the first world war and married a Russian Woman. Mum was in the Soviet section for a period of time - after the second world war -(think that was because of my uncle 's marriage to a Russian woman). My mother came to England in1955. I am so so sad to hear about the concentration camp - my mind just cannot go there with what happened to your relatives - it pains me.
Peetee (Peter Franz) was 8 when he came here, put in a different section of the school as an 'alien' and lost mum when he was 12. But I feel he is now with mum. I have always felt that mum is looking after me
Got to believe that the 'external force' takes us when the time is right otherwise I'm not sure I could cope. Again I feel for your loss. Hope this makes sense. Still hurting 'cos he was my Austrian half brother and connection to mum. But we all have people close to us who have passed over and we feel the sadness and pain whatever the circumstances ☺

 

[Phoenix]

@Phoenix Mum died after a violent assault by my English father.It was 1959. I was 18months as stated before. She was born in Vienna about 1912. After the second world war Vienna was divided into sections as you probably know. Her relative (Uncle) was in a Soviet camp during the first world war and married a Russian Woman. Mum was in the Soviet section for a period of time - after the second world war -(think that was because of my uncle 's marriage to a Russian woman). My mother came to England in1955. I am so so sad to hear about the concentration camp - my mind just cannot go there with what happened to your relatives - it pains me.
Peetee (Peter Franz) was 8 when he came here, put in a different section of the school as an 'alien' and lost mum when he was 12. But I feel he is now with mum. I have always felt that mum is looking after me
Got to believe that the 'external force' takes us when the time is right otherwise I'm not sure I could cope. Again I feel for your loss. Hope this makes sense. Still hurting 'cos he was my Austrian half brother and connection to mum. But we all have people close to us who have passed over and we feel the sadness and pain whatever the circumstances ☺

Thank you for explaining further. I'm so sorry your mom died because of a brutal man. I'm sure your mom is with you. Who raised you? How old were you when you learned what happened to your mom?

I really know very little about Vienna. My mother-in-law didn't like to talk about her experiences much. She didn't want to relive it. She went on to become supervisor in a company that made zippers.

As for me, what my brother did helped shape me into being a better person. I'm grateful for that.

Namaste - one of the meanings of namaste is - when you are in your higher place and I am in mine, we are one.

 

[Keesha]

Guilt is a normal response to someone's death. It's often thoughts of "If only I had just...." fill in the blanks. There are all kinds of things that people often feel on the road to acceptance. I'm glad you feel/have felt him with you. Do you know the song, I Believe, Diamond Rio It brings great comfort to me. The gathering of pictures is also what I did when my boyfriend died of cancer. I tacked them up all over the house. Mom looked at photo albums for several days when Dad died. I felt a lot of guilt with my brother. The friendship I made with the professor was developing. He was not there during the first days of it and he was not there during the trial. I had to tend to my parents and all the horror. The friendship grew later, when I was completely broken. I am grateful to him.

Now, I'm not a religious person. The religion of my youth failed me. But I developed a spirituality over time. The laws of physics say that nothing is ever lost it just changes form and substance. To me that means it is true of everything and everyone. I've come to believe that everything that happens to us can teach us something incredibly valuable if we view it that way. That is what I have chosen to believe. When things get tough, which they always do, again and again, I look for what I can learn and how I can grow. I hold those who have passed on in a treasured place in my heart. I dream about them sometimes. Your brother blessed you, and you blessed your brother.

That’s right. We are energy and energy can neither be created or destroyed. It merely transforms. We transform. You bet we do. I definitely believe there is far more than we can ever imagine and that we are all connected to our loved ones which we shall see again. Love is eternal.

 

[Keesha]

Namaste

 

[Phoenix]

That’s right. We are energy and energy can neither be created or destroyed. It merely transforms. We transform. You bet we do. I definitely believe there is far more than we can ever imagine and that we are all connected to our loved ones which we shall see again. Love is eternal.

Do you know about quantum entanglement, a part of quantum physics? My husband is a physics buff. So I've watched a lot of documentaries of the subject. I believe this is how we and everything else are connected. It's part of the novel I'm currently writing.

 

[Keesha]

Do you know about quantum entanglement, a part of quantum physics? My husband is a physics buff. So I've watched a lot of documentaries of the subject. I believe this is how we and everything else are connected. It's part of the novel I'm currently writing.

YES! Quantum psychics explains our existence and how energy works and about different dimensions amongst us. I find it fascinating. Deepak Chopra and Wayne Dyer explain quantum physics well. You’re writing about quantum physics? It’s beyond fascinating. There are so few people I’ve met in life who understand this topic. Not that I know that much about it. It’s amazing that you’re writing about this. I’d love to read it.

 

[Treacle]

I have The Seven Spiritual Laws of Success by Deepak Chopra - must read again. Thanks Keesha for noting him

Thank you for explaining further. I'm so sorry your mom died because of a brutal man. I'm sure your mom is with you. Who raised you? How old were you when you learned what happened to your mom?

I really know very little about Vienna. My mother-in-law didn't like to talk about her experiences much. She didn't want to relive it. She went on to become supervisor in a company that made zippers.

As for me, what my brother did helped shape me into being a better person. I'm grateful for that.

Namaste - one of the meanings of namaste is - when you are in your higher place and I am in mine, we are one.

I was 16 when I found out. We were raised by my English grandparents after some time in a catholic home. We were told mum had died in a car crash but one day in Secondary School a 'friend' just said your dad killed your mum. Her mum had told her. When I got home my sister and I looked in a cupboard where my grandmother kept all papers and I found something that a judge had written. When I confronted my father he said he will tell me when I was older and able to understand. He never did. I research over 30 years and found newspaper reports and other paperwork including a response from the solicitor who represented him. So I was able to establish what had happened. She died of a ruptured spleen and had 150 bruises on her due to his violent assault.
My siblings and I all think mum is protecting us and caring for us.
I have heard of 'the string theory' don't understand physics but I've always thought we are at different stages in our existence on different spectrums? I see it like strumming a guitar and you have vibrations. Not sure that makes sense to anyone.

 

[Phoenix]

YES! Quantum psychics explains our existence and how energy works and about different dimensions amongst us. I find it fascinating. Deepak Chopra and Wayne Dyer explain quantum physics well. You’re writing about quantum physics? It’s beyond fascinating. There are so few people I’ve met in life who understand this topic. Not that I know that much about it. It’s amazing that you’re writing about this. I’d love to read it.

Quantum entanglement explains how everything is connected to everything else. Some believe it's through tiny vibrating strings. There are all kinds of documentaries on quantum physic, quantum mechanics and some on quantum entanglement. If you don't have access to them on television you can find the documentaries on you-tube. A few of the people in the know who know about this in the scientific community are Michelle Thaller, Phil Plait, Michio Kachu, Brian Greene and Alex Philipenko. The book my engineering friend recommended to me when I started writing this book is called Quantum Eninigma: Physics Encounters Consciousness by Bruce Resenblum and Fred Kuttner.

What we know about the universe, all the galaxies, stars, gases, planets, everything we know about it makes up only 5 percent. The rest is called dark energy and dark matter. They make up 95 percent. 30 percent is dark matter. 65 percent is dark energy. By dark it just means that we can't see or detect it. It is my theory that we can't see or detect it because it all exists in other dimensions and we don't have the equipment and/or lenses needed to see into it at this time. If we don't wipe ourselves out first, some day some really smart person will develop something or multiple somethings that will allow us to see and investigate it, a little at a time.

It is my theory that the energies of those we love pass into the realm of what scientists call dark energy when their physical bodies die. In the book I am writing my characters enter a world that exist in one of those realms. This is where quantum entanglement comes into play. There's even a little of the transporter like stuff from Star Trek in my story. My protagonists grandfather is a quantum physicist and he explains how that works. Now the book is not heavy into the science stuff. I explain just enough for the story to work. I don't want to put anyone to sleep. Quantum entanglement could also explain how people could find each other lifetime afterlife time. That is part of my story as well.

I've been working on the book for three years. I'm currently taking a little break so I will be able to see it more clearly when I get back to it. I will go over it one more time, and then I will have my husband edit for me. He will also help me sort out the flaws in my understanding of physics, if there are any. I will rewrite it one more time after that, and then publish it.

 

[Phoenix]

I have The Seven Spiritual Laws of Success by Deepak Chopra - must read again. Thanks Keesha for noting him

I was 16 when I found out. We were raised by my English grandparents after some time in a catholic home. We were told mum had died in a car crash but one day in Secondary School a 'friend' just said your dad killed your mum. Her mum had told her. When I got home my sister and I looked in a cupboard where my grandmother kept all papers and I found something that a judge had written. When I confronted my father he said he will tell me when I was older and able to understand. He never did. I research over 30 years and found newspaper reports and other paperwork including a response from the solicitor who represented him. So I was able to establish what had happened. She died of a ruptured spleen and had 150 bruises on her due to his violent assault.
My siblings and I all think mum is protecting us and caring for us.
I have heard of 'the string theory' don't understand physics but I've always thought we are at different stages in our existence on different spectrums? I see it like strumming a guitar and you have vibrations. Not sure that makes sense to anyone.

Wow. That's a hard thing to find out. It must have blown you away. It would have been an awful thing for your grandparents to learn and then carry on. It sounds like your father should have gone to jail. Once you discovered more about what happened, how did it set on you? Were you angry? Did you sob? I assume you called out to your mother and she was there in whatever way she could be.

You and your pain are in my heart. Like the song by Jennifer Lopez from the movie Home says, Feel The Light

 

[Treacle]

Wow. That's a hard thing to find out. It must have blown you away. It would have been an awful thing for your grandparents to learn and then carry on. It sounds like your father should have gone to jail. Once you discovered more about what happened, how did it set on you? Were you angry? Did you sob? I assume you called out to your mother and she was there in whatever way she could be.

You and your pain are in my heart. Like the song by Jennifer Lopez from the movie Home says, Feel The Light

He did go to jail for 2 years (got 3 years) but never ever behaved like a father. We all suffered at the convent and I was subjected to sexual abuse by my uncles and lived in fear of going home in case the car was there. The other uncle I would say goodnight too so he would know I was awake and wouldn't come into my room. Not having a mum who could protect me on this earth has left me emotionally damaged and I don't think I've ever felt what it is to be loved. I've been in bad relationships and currently in another one of 15 years which I continue to endure until the timing is right for me to leave. (I know we have free will). It's as if people sense your vulnerability and take advantage. But but but, I know one day I will find that peace and I remain optimistic that however awful this journey has been it will all come good in the end and now my brother is with mum I have two souls taking care of me. Thank you @Phoenix for your concern.