Grief is heavy today as I stand in a 24 hour period that marks the 6 month anniversary of my dad’s passing.
6 months?
How has it been 6 long months? How was he diagnosed with cancer almost 2 years ago? How did we fly through all the months of his doctor appointments and chemo and hospital visits?
Sigh.
And so I went to the store to buy a bottled Starbucks Mocha Frappuccino. Why? Because when I first met my dad some 20 years ago (I’ve mentioned before that he’s my step-step dad, but will forever be my dad) he took me out for a day on his boat near where he lived in Florida. My mom said he was a bit nervous and wanted me to have everything I liked for the visit and so my mom told him that one of my favorite drinks (that powered me through seminary, by the way) was 4-packs of Mocha Frappuccinos.
For many reasons, that trip is one of my “core memories” - a moment frozen in time that I’ll remember forever. But one of the things that sticks out to me is that when we anchored the boat and I opened the cooler it was FILLED (and I mean FILLED) with bottles of Mocha Frappuccinos. We all had a good laugh as I made my way through bottle after bottle, but today as I stood in the aisle at Publix I cried instead of laughed and thanked him for being one of the first men to make me feel “seen”.
Seen?
In seminary there was a lot of pressure for me to …
Cut my long hair.
Cover my tattoos.
Rid my wardrobe of Vans and Hollister and Yankee Jerseys.
Get rid of my bracelets.
Be more sophisticated.
Ditch my piercings.
Tone down all of my “color”.
… But my dad? He saw ME and made me feel like I was fine just the way I was. He encouraged me to be me, to tune out all the noise, to follow my heart - wherever that may lead me. For a while that led me behind a pulpit and then it led me to 11 years at Apple and then it led me back to seminary and these days it’s led me away from the faith of my youth to embrace a bigger, wider, more expansive dream of the Divine … exploring it all from behind a microphone and camera every week on the podcast.
Today, though? On September 5, 2023?
Today it led me to the drink aisle at Publix and so this one is for you, dad. Thanks for always being there and thanks for being here now … I know you are.
Much love,
Glenn || SUPPORT THE PROJECT
Hugs to you, it's funny what can be a trigger for our grief, and surely you can take all the time you need, 6 months...a year...more than that! I envy the relationship you had, it's so special. Maybe envy isn't the word, but admire might be better. Sending love and hugs, always...A