Stupid Shower Curtain

This is from a posting I saw on Facebook this morning:

A woman gave me a sculpture. It was a heart that had once been broken in several places but had been pieced together. I thanked her for the message: A broken heart, once healed, is a work of art.

Prayer: Higher Power, hold me close when I feel sad and miss someone or something. Help me remember that each wave of sadness washes away the old and washes in the new. Teach me compassion. Show me how to comfort myself and others.

By Melody Beattie

I read that right after having the shower curtain rod let loose and fall on my this morning. My first instinct was to call Dean to help me get it back up … then reality kicked. Kicked hard. 

I took the kids to school today. It is the first place I have been in the past few days that I have not heard “I’m Sorry.” — Instead I heard “We all just want to know how to help.”

I know that everyone is saying the same thing — just seems that this language of ours does not have the correct words, and so it comes out “I’m sorry”.  The difference today was a bit striking. Not that I don’t appreciate anything and all anyone has to say — especially the endless supply of hugs. There were a lot of those yesterday at church. At the end of service Rev. Natalie had a little prayer, an acknowledgement that we all know Dean is not lost … that he has just gone Home and that we will all have the opportunity to see him again. I know this with all my heart. I know that he will be able to watch his children grow, and that he will be praying for us and helping us as he can. Blows my mind that even though I know these things, something like a shower curtain falling can send me into the realm of uncertainty and loneliness. Even while Dean was on his search in Mexico we were at the very least emailing and the most skyping inbetween his activities. Kids are at school … and I came home with no one to even email about what is happening.

This turn of events in mine and the kids lives has brought such an outpouring of love … I thought we were taken care of when Dean was diagnosed … now, it is more quiet, I can tell a lot of people are giving me space, which I really, really appreciate … but when we are out there are hugs, and Dean’s wake, I have been told is being organized and that leaves me able to concentrate on the service itself and the kids, and of course me. 

To be true to Dean I have asked it to be as close to an Irish type wake as possible. I looked up the definition of an Irish Wake this morning and this is what popped up: “An Irish wake is basically a party after the death of a family member or friend. Usually used by family members to get drunk and tell stories, usually inappropriate, about the deceased.” So I hope everyone will feel free to make this a BYOB occasion. Have some fun, and share some fond memories. I think there will be lots of little cameras there so that we can take pictures of each other and I can keep them for the kids and let them know all the people that loved their daddy, and probably a book with which you can share your favorite Dean story … 

I will start you all off…

The two pictures above are from the first camping trip we took with the older boys when we first started dating. I guess the bottom picture should be on top since it is him and Lloyd digging for worms and then the top picture is Dean getting Michael and Lloyd set up for their first fishing experience with the newly dug worms. This is who he is — not what the cancer did. 

I am sure there are lots of stories out there I have never heard. Looking forward to hearing many stories when we celebrate his life here and to wish him well on the life he has now.