Catching up

Officially, it has been just over four months since I have posted a blog on this site, but unofficially, I actually crafted a long, heartfelt message on Memorial Day that did not make it to public viewing because of tragic computer mishaps.  I had put so much energy into the post, and even tried to re-write it a second time but continued to be disappointed unfortunate events that I gave up and haven't written since.  Well, I haven't written not because of the events of that day but because I don't think I've adopted the blogging mentality yet, and well, I was not able to manage engaging in my work life, my home life, and a blogging life.  Perhaps things will change in the near future, but forgive me if I only get around to posting every so often.  There is much to be said despite the limited opportunities for thoughts and experiences to become words, and given that, these words only reach a small circle of people in the world.  Nonetheless, my ramblings are meant to help motion my gaze, and any one else's who is interested, in the direction of my dad, who lived in the world for sixty-three, some-odd years, as a soldier, a father, a deacon, as a teacher, as a man who loved everyone. 

For anyone who went to church yesterday, you probably heard the Gospel reading that said,  "Ask and you will receive."  The Father will not give you what you think you need or want, like the snake for the fish or the scorpion for the egg.  Sometimes you get what you want or need; it just comes in a different format.  The priest at the church where I attend mass spoke about how parents can see things their children cannot, and this goes for God, too.  As I'm writing this and thinking about dad, I do not want to simplify in any way, how tremendous the experience of death is in light of this gospel.  The story itself is simplistic, yet in life, what we experience is so much greater in terms of what impacts our lives.  Right?  Yet this simple story in the gospel would seem to be addressing the big points in life, our greatest wants and needs, and how God sees things on the grander scale.  We really don't know what to expect, and we don't necessarily know how to handle life if God gives us a fish that looks and feels like a snake.   When do we discover that we have, in fact, been given a fish?  Too, once we realize that we are in possession of the fish, we only live with it for so long before we prepare it, cook it up, and share it with our families.  Fish come and go, as do all of the precious and fulfilling gifts that we are given, like people in our lives, and we are made more whole and nourished because it was once with us and it is now a part of us. 

In less than a month, it will have been a year since my father's death.  I'm sure that all who knew him will feel that same loss of breath on the day that he passed.  Our family is different now, evolving in an unfamiliar direction, with the hope that we can always keep the light of dad within us as we trip over the rocks and boulders in our way.

The other thing is that as we've all been bumping and bruising along, over the past year, we've all found pennies which insights us that dad is not far.  For anyone that is reading this blog and has a penny story to tell, please tell your story either in the comments section of this blog, or post it on deaconboblittle.com.  The website has not been updated lately, but it would be wonderful to hear about how dad has continued to touch your lives and help you when you needed a little extra.  He's still watching over all of us, and I believe he's in kuhuts with God now telling Him to give us all really big, beautiful fish.....

Happy Birthday, Mom and Dad

I just spent the last 20 minutes searching the Wikipedia website for important events that occurred in history on March 19th and March 20th.  I can tell you that March 20th is the first day of spring and is the vernal equinox where the day and the night are of equal time.  On March 19th, 1931, gambling was legalized in Nevada, in 1954, Joey Giardello knocked out Willie Tory in the first boxing fight on color TV, and in 1946, my father was born.  That wasn't one of the important events in history that I found on the Wikipedia website, but it will go down as one of the most important events in the history of my life.  Also, on March 20th, 1952, my mother was born.  How fitting it was that mom was born on the first day of spring, as it makes perfect sense in the events that have chronicled her life and ours.  Given the event of August 23rd, 2009, when at around 11:19 in the morning my father took his last breath of life, a spring somewhere so deep that you might imagine it not existing, opened anew in all those closest to him, especially my mother.

Searching further on websites looking for other events significant to August 23, 2009, I located a headline that states, 'Upwards Lightening Caught on Film'.  On the day dad passed, this magical and unusual event was captured by US researchers from Duke University in North Carolina.  The article stated that, "...these are not just sparks that come out of the thunderstorm and travel upward and tickle the upper atmosphere.  They actually deliver to the upper atmosphere as much electric charge as the very strong lightning strokes to ground."  (He'd like the word, "tickle" :)  Hmm....could this have been some kind of physical representation of dad's ascent?  The week that followed his death, everyone that was closely involved in preparing the funeral made connections to the fact that, well, God must have needed him in heaven to make such a bold gesture, and that his spirit was connected to both the earth and the heavens, i.e., the horizon.  The word horizon is defined as "the line or circle that forms the apparent boundary between earth and sky."  It is also defined as "the limit or range of perception, knowledge, or the like."  Did dad expand the horizon, on that day, of all those who he left behind?  Did that bolt of lightening (bolt actually being the "word of the day" as noted in another website I found...) represent the indomitable strength of God and of dad's spirit rising to a place that we cannot humanly conceive of?

What brings me peace each day is the thought that dad is buried on the line of the horizon, and that he is watching over us from somewhere very close by.  I have not visited his gravesite in a long while, and I thought about driving to St. Helena this weekend just to be near his body for a short time.  When you sit facing him, you face east, and dad lies facing west with the horizon behind him.  He, in his spiritual form, could be resting on a mountaintop away from the despair of human suffering along with others who have died.  They endured each day and then were asked to come home.  He could also be intimately involved in transmitting hope to those who have lost their way on earth and cannot see the horizon for the moment.  He was pretty good at this in life, and he told me that he never wanted to stop fighting for people who were suffering.  Okay, dad....I believe you.

What better day to look towards the horizon than on the first day of spring.  Dad must have known mom would be okay given her bearings in life, having been born on the day that represents new life and equality with the earth and the sun (as was believed by the Persians who personified the earth and sun as a bull and a lion...me and Beck??).  Perhaps I'm stretching this a little.  I've always been interested in making connections to ideas that are just outside my reach in order to discover a mystery.  Luckily, I married a man who keeps me grounded in what's in front of me, as well.  All I can say is that I ate a mom-famous spritz cookie in honor of my dad yesterday.  I talked to my gram (my mother's mom) and she said that she ate a piece of cake for dad while looking at a photo that she just happened upon when she was cleaning her desk.  Mom and Beck are away enjoying some moments of freedom and celebrating mom's birthday.  And I plan on putting my hands in the soil today, decorating our yard with flowers, and looking towards the horizon...