Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I was too exhausted yesterday to write, as I'd pulled my back the day before stretching up high and lugging things around, then been unable to sleep. Finally I took tylenol at dawn, but it left me wiped. Nevertheless, she, that is I, persisted, and my husband and I hiked with our daughter, her husband and two boys on a wonderful trail with handmade "trolls" along the path. The four year old loved it, as did we. Then we went to their house and barbequed, but my husband fell asleep watching a video with the four year old, so I woke him and we headed home to watch and old Columbo and snack instead of dinner. We heard from all our kids, and I thought of my dad, the biggest influence in my life, and my closest attachment for many years. He was complex, with drive and ambition, yet a soft side, judgemental but tender, scary to argue with but showing later he had listened. I took care of him as he died, and it was like watching a mighty sequoia in the forest keel over and crumble. I didn't have any space after he died to mourn, as we had just moved from Colorado, knew no one, and I had to sell his house, our house in Colorado, get the kids settled in their schools, and fight mononucleosis. My mother died only ten months before my dad, but I had hoped for many years living close to dad, in fact, it was why we moved back. But two months after we moved he was gone. He was a fire cracker, like our older daughter, and difficult but worth the effort. He died at 65, and only my two older kids remembered much. Yet his love was enormous and without limits, and his support was felt and I still feel it today. He had a great heart, open to whatever came. He never, ever closed down. I aspire to that heart, not afraid of being hurt, not deterred by pain, but open armed and loving.