Everyone dies but not everyone lives!

I will be quick to admit that it isn’t easy for men to process their emotions, especially grief over the death of parents, spouse or children. I have been in the recovery mode over the last few weeks as I process the passing of my dad. I know that it is easy for individuals to believe that they are being gracious and caring when they say that my dad is in a better place where there isn’t any more suffering. I know that intellectually I can agree with all of this and see in one sense my mom and dad reunited together in their heavenly condo. Yet, my heart aches because the ones who brought me into this world are gone.

I have received a multitude of sympathy cards from a variety of friends both young and old. The notes from my dad’s siblings have been enlightening. Again it has been a tough journey for me with my mom dying first from a decade long battle with cancer. My dad became emotionally withdrawn and very slow to let me know about his personal struggle with his Lady’s passing. I can remember the big decision to rescue my dad from his cave like existence to bring him to Phoenix. I didn’t have the answers to comprehending the death of your life long partner after 55 years. My dad for a season became someone that didn’t make much sense because his Dementia had taken over his ability to process events and emotions.

I admit that e-mail isn’t the best platform to use for communicating but at times it becomes all we have. I had sent a thank you to close friends for their special card that had pictures from their son’s journey in Asia. As I read this response I was totally taken back by the fact that a close friend had just faced a multitude of life challenging issues, which I hadn’t know about. I felt for my friend who I knew wasn’t the type of guy to say much to anyone about personal challenges. It is always too easy to be in the manly fix it mode or the CEO type A guy that is always focused on others and not yourself.

As I prepared for a teen guy group talking about real living it struck me that it is so easy to live in a fashion where I can miss out on living real life and just be waiting for the evitable. I had been listening to a song that talks about everyone dies but not everyone lives. I know that one of my dad’s challenges in life was allowing others, me, to be more aware of the emotional trauma of a misplaced youth, the issues with serving in the military during a war that few understood and then to watch your best friend slowly fade away over a decade and then one day be gone. I confess that I did a poor job of listening and asking sensitive questions to help my father and protector process his grief and emotions.

It is too easy to allow our testosterone side of manliness to always be in control so that I was competitive with my dad as a teen and 20 something that made it difficult to be close. I know that time doesn’t literally fly but I can remember my parents coming out 12 years ago to share with us mom’s situation with cancer. They were very reassuring that everything would work out but cancer is a disease that doesn’t show mercy or grace to any. What strikes me looking back is that my parents choose to live each day in a special way that I can honestly say I didn’t have any issues with my mom as she faced death daily over a couple of years. She was the one that taught me to face my death in a personal way understanding that life doesn’t come with any guarantees but that death is not something to fear.

I recognize that it is easy to intellectualize emotions without actually facing them. Today I will drive to the Social Security Office to bring to a close the benefits of my dad. I am privileged as a son and friend of my dad to do this for him. I can’t explain the emotional mess that I feel on the inside that platitudes, nice cards or understanding e-mails won’t take away. I’m learning that grieving is a life long experience. My mom died 6 years ago and I’m still tender about it and I believe that is God’s design to keep us human and not turn into robots that can be programmed to keep going regardless.