The Dinner Party

52 Thankfuls – 2018

52 Things to be thankful for this year. In a sorta particular order….

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  1. Family
  2. Fireplaces
  3. Big coffee cups
  4. Paris
  5. Carousels
  6. Honest Friends
  7. Olive-pants
  8. My house
  9. Books
  10. Bosses who care
  11. Chasing dreams
  12. Mountains
  13. Yoga pants
  14. White dishes stacked
  15. Wool sweaters
  16. Twinkle lights
  17. Keyboards to type on
  18. Pasta makers
  19. Learning to sew
  20. Art supplies
  21. Walking paths
  22. The gym
  23. Ham, bread and cheese
  24. Phone booths
  25. Ukulele
  26. Clean water
  27. Flannels sheets
  28. Popsicles
  29. Champagne bubbles
  30. Hiking boots
  31. The Dinner Party
  32. Blog readers
  33. Magazine editors
  34. Roasting pans
  35. Our piano
  36. When my husband plays the guitar
  37. Text messages
  38. Bitmojis
  39. New friends
  40. Old friends
  41. Mussels
  42. Eiffel Tower
  43. Sunsets
  44. Hands to hold
  45. Cozy socks
  46. Handy men
  47. This is Us
  48. Traditions
  49. Learning new things
  50. Monet’s water lilies
  51. Gelato roses
  52. Magic

 

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours. What’s on your gratitude list this year?

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My Apple Cart / Soap Box Rant

I’m bending down and dragging out the medium-sized apple cart. The old wood scratches on the cement, screeching along as I place the little pedestal in front of me.

Clomp. Clomp.

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Photo by dimas aditya on Unsplash

My feet stand confidently on this wooden box, supporting me as I take a deep breath.

Here it is folks.

My apple cart / soap box rant.

It’s Father’s Day. My third one with out him. The first year this loss was fresh, fresh, fresh. Teeth had sunk in and crunched away a giant part of me. I texted my friend who had lost her dad three years prior and I asked, “Um. What the hell am I supposed to do on this day?”

She responded, ” My first year I stayed off social media, got in bed and waited for it to pass.”

She granted me permission to do just that.

Last year we spent the day putting new mulch in our front yard. Ate pizza with my father-in-law and I’m sure I cried privately. I still stayed off social media.

This year, I’ve been working very hard on finding a community of people who understand and can relate to these swimming feelings of loss. I’ve whispered prayers for friends who can walk through this with me.

To my surprise, I found a lot of support on the internet.

I signed up for a Father’s Day gift exchange through Modern Loss. I write on the private group boards and think of the ol’ AOL chat room days. I ponder how these strangers behind their computer screens bravely share their pain and frustration and joy.

I submitted my answers to Father’s Day questions posed by The Dinner Party – a grief group specific for 20-30 somethings who have lost important people in their lives. They were going to pick 24 stories to highlight – one each hour today – and were overwhelmed when over 150 people responded to their prompts. I received the email with this round-up of powerful pieces at work. I scrolled through this list and tears filled my eyes while a sense community filled my heart. They included every single submission.

Unfortunately …. beautifully … I am not alone.

 

 

I get it now. I’m in the Dead Dads Club. A lifetime membership to the suckiest group.

New members join every day.

I think of the line they start every Al-Anon Meeting with – We’re sorry for what brought you here, but we’re glad you’ve found your way. 

This year, I believe in the power of my story and I’m using my voice. I’m scrolling on Facebook and won’t be staying in bed. I’m putting up pictures and writing poems and high-fiving with those who get it.

If you need to stay in bed and sip white wine that’s fine too.

Because there are SO many people who get it.

These people not be my intimate friends, but they, my fellow members, have brought me support and nodded “uh-huh” and wiped away tears from across the country. All on the internet.

 

I see Dad today – in the places he’s missing – but also in the places where we are living.

Cheers to the dads throwing ball, changing diapers, grilling steaks today. The ones who throw their kids in the air, teach tots to ride trikes, those working to pay the bills and put bread on the table. Cheers to the dads who are hurting. Those struggling with depression, or unemployment, or grief of their own. Cheers to the men who have no blood relation. Those who care deeply about the development of others. The ones who are bosses. The ones who are putting others before themselves. Cheers to the dads who are expecting. Those watching their wives bellies grow. The dads who are dreaming.

Cheers to the dads who are living.

Cheers to the dads who have died.

I wrote this poem for my dad and Hello Humans was gracious to publish it.

Happy Father’s Day.

Clomp. Clomp.

Stepping down.

Dragging my apple cart back into the garage.