Five Weeks
Well, it has now been five weeks since Dad passed. The date seems significant. I'm not sure why except that perhaps I have had the proper amount of time to reflect on it. This isn't to say I do not think about him everyday, but the experience has been odd. Losing him has not been how I expected. I have not been crushed. I have not been emotionally crippled. It does not hang over me like a malaise. I feel very much in agreement with something my brother said earlier today, it isn't that things are great right now, it is just that it was worse back then. In many ways Dad's death was a relief. It was a relief for him and a relief for us. And while admittedly getting on with life has had its rough stretches, I think the family has managed.
The troubling times come when one has cause to reflect, whether it be important dates or coming into contact with possessions. Fathers Day happened recently. That is self-explanatory. Earlier this week I went into the box containing the stuff Dad had with him at Hospice. I think I was the first one to do so. I was looking for the knife he always had with him because it was decided I should keep it. I can not describe how difficult that was. The High School graduated its senior class (congratulations) this last weekend, and I remembered how proud he was when I graduated. He wanted to be there for John's graduation from RIT next year. I'm sure he would have liked to see me graduate from U of R in three years too. I attended a wedding on Saturday. I felt a little out of place, but it was touching. I could not help but look at Mr. Huber and realize that my own father will not be at my wedding, whenever that happens. It is things like that. Those are the times that it still hurts. I suppose it always will hurt in that way.
Besides those moments, the days pass much as they normally do. For those like me who waste their time, the days pass all too quickly for such inactivity and progress. Interestingly enough I still manage to feel and look exhausted. I am not sure how I manage that. I feel like I am waiting for something to happen, but I am not sure what it is. Even so, as I type this I realize such talk is idle. While the good LORD will reveal his plans for me in his own time, I need not waste the intermediate moments in lethargy. In part, that is why I am thankful for the increased hours at work. It means I am at least doing something five days a week.
It is an oft held belief that there is nothing to do in the country in comparison to the city. I suppose there is truth to that for those that enjoy the bustle of urban areas. Even for those that enjoy the country, summers such as this provide a challenge for achieving satisfaction. I think it comes from a lack of creativity on our part. We should all work to correct that.
All the time I was on campus at U of R, I missed the country. I missed being able to see the stars at night. I missed the fields and creeks and forests. I even missed the modal town that Livonia presents itself as. It really is a pleasant looking place. Perhaps all of this is why I have become quite taken by Beethoven's Sixth Symphony. It speaks to me, especially its first movement, "Erwachen heiterer Empfindungen bei der Ankunft auf dem Lande." It means "Awakening of cheerful feelings upon arrival in the country." I guess it was not well recieved at its first performance. It is not as boisterous as most of Beethoven's work, but it has its own, more simple, beauty; much like the country that inspired it and continues to give it resonance.
God bless
The troubling times come when one has cause to reflect, whether it be important dates or coming into contact with possessions. Fathers Day happened recently. That is self-explanatory. Earlier this week I went into the box containing the stuff Dad had with him at Hospice. I think I was the first one to do so. I was looking for the knife he always had with him because it was decided I should keep it. I can not describe how difficult that was. The High School graduated its senior class (congratulations) this last weekend, and I remembered how proud he was when I graduated. He wanted to be there for John's graduation from RIT next year. I'm sure he would have liked to see me graduate from U of R in three years too. I attended a wedding on Saturday. I felt a little out of place, but it was touching. I could not help but look at Mr. Huber and realize that my own father will not be at my wedding, whenever that happens. It is things like that. Those are the times that it still hurts. I suppose it always will hurt in that way.
Besides those moments, the days pass much as they normally do. For those like me who waste their time, the days pass all too quickly for such inactivity and progress. Interestingly enough I still manage to feel and look exhausted. I am not sure how I manage that. I feel like I am waiting for something to happen, but I am not sure what it is. Even so, as I type this I realize such talk is idle. While the good LORD will reveal his plans for me in his own time, I need not waste the intermediate moments in lethargy. In part, that is why I am thankful for the increased hours at work. It means I am at least doing something five days a week.
It is an oft held belief that there is nothing to do in the country in comparison to the city. I suppose there is truth to that for those that enjoy the bustle of urban areas. Even for those that enjoy the country, summers such as this provide a challenge for achieving satisfaction. I think it comes from a lack of creativity on our part. We should all work to correct that.
All the time I was on campus at U of R, I missed the country. I missed being able to see the stars at night. I missed the fields and creeks and forests. I even missed the modal town that Livonia presents itself as. It really is a pleasant looking place. Perhaps all of this is why I have become quite taken by Beethoven's Sixth Symphony. It speaks to me, especially its first movement, "Erwachen heiterer Empfindungen bei der Ankunft auf dem Lande." It means "Awakening of cheerful feelings upon arrival in the country." I guess it was not well recieved at its first performance. It is not as boisterous as most of Beethoven's work, but it has its own, more simple, beauty; much like the country that inspired it and continues to give it resonance.
God bless