finding my dad

A Second Chance

~ Jenna ~ 2 Comments

A babbling brook of whys and what ifs.
Where’s his second chance? His saving grace?
That miracle lying in wait.

So tied to our illusion of control,
we beg and plead:
he’s one of the good ones,
please use it on him.

In a single moment,
our road map diverged from His.
Propelling us off course,
no turn-by-turn directions home.

Eight months later,
some footing found.
Hints of knowing,
silver linings and signs of God all around.

And still, some days, anger interrupts again:
why didn’t he get a second chance?
This time,
A quick and knowing all-heart reply:

His first chance taken,
a life well lived.
A family, his humble heart,
full to the brim.

Why didn’t he get a second chance?
Because he didn’t need one.

Something in the Way She Moves

~ Jenna ~ 2 Comments

I miss the way his hands look and the comfort of his big hugs. What I wouldn’t give to listen to his memories, hear his perspective and feel his words of encouragement and praise that always held the weight of ten people. Sometimes, selfishly, it’s only him in his human form that will do.

And still, there is beauty in the mystery of our new relationship.

Dad was such a rule follower in his earth suit. Always doing the right thing. I see him as a bit of an angel rebel in Heaven; wearing his black leather jacket and working with the Boss every day to get as close to us as possible.  Pulling countless strings up there for good days down here. And pushing the boundaries on sign allowances because he doesn’t want us to be sad or suffering.

Like this James Taylor song that has been looping in my mind like a record on a turntable since the day he left. I know it’s from him. I wonder what it means?

There’s something in the way she moves
Or looks my way, or calls my name
That seems to leave this troubled world behind
If I’m feeling down and blue
Or troubled by some foolish game
She always seems to make me change my mind
And I feel fine anytime she’s around me now
She’s around me now
Almost all the time
And if I’m well you can tell she’s been with me now
She’s been with me now quite a long, long time
And I feel fine
Every now and then the things I lean on lose their meaning
And I find myself careening
In places where I should not let me go
She has the power to go where no one else can find me
Yes and silently remind me
The happiness and the good times that I know, but as I had got to know them
It isn’t what she’s got to say
But how she thinks and where she’s been
To me, the words are nice, the way they sound
I like to hear them best that way
It doesn’t much matter what they mean
What she says them mostly just to calm me down
And I feel fine anytime she’s around me now
She’s around me now
Almost all the time
If I’m well you can tell she’s been with me now
She’s been with me now quite a long, long time
Yes and I feel fine

I Found My Heart in San Francisco

~ Jenna ~ 1 Comment

This land is your land, this land is my land…

Pandora just happened to settle on these words chirped by Elizabeth Mitchell as we drove from Sausalito to San Francisco. The Golden Gate Bridge catches my breath every time I see it. At first just peeking over Victorian rooftops and then, in plain, awe-inspiring site. We rented a convertible, because why not on a 24-hour surprise birthday trip to San Francisco with no kids?

Looking up to see nothing but blue sky and “international orange” felt like a mix between Full House dreams and a rollercoaster to freedom. Ryan reached cruising speed and my hands caught the wind above. I was completely overcome by the near perfection of the moment.

The extreme joy I felt, coalesced with an extreme fullness of my dad. Then, a deep longing to have him there with me. To experience joy with him one more time.

If I closed my eyes under the warm sun, I could almost feel him right there next to me. He always said yes to a spontaneous trip. No questions asked, other than, “When are we going?”. Windows down, one hand on the steering wheel and his elbow resting on the side of the car. A baseball cap, Oakley sunglasses, chewing Trident gum, while giving me a half smile that perfectly said, “It doesn’t get much better than this.”

I felt my dad the whole trip. Ryan said he did too. On the flights as my calming voice: “It’s going to be okay. Just enjoy it”. In the butterfly that greeted us halfway up a long hill on our hike in Marin. In the solo mountain biker cruising amidst the expanse of empty trails. In a juicy orange. In the fog horn and the ocean bell.

It’s amazing that my dad was in San Francisco. It confirmed that inkling, that he’s in me. He’s in all of us. He’s everywhere.

So, listen to the songs he loved.
Go to the places he loved to go.
Travel 500 miles away and feel him.
But also, just be. He’s right here.