Dad and Death

The other day when I was leaving the gym, I decided to go visit my dad's grave. It's placed in a large cemetery off of Redwood Road and where my dad is buried has an incredible view of the mountains and the Salt Lake Valley. I've been there a few times since I've been back and I can't help but feel a mixture of emotion every time I go there. For those who don't know, my dad passed away after a battle with cancer when I was 4 years old - so some of my earliest memories are of visiting my dad at the cemetery. As I got older, I think part of me resented the fact that the only personal relationship I ever really had with my father was starting down at his bronze weather-worn grave marker. And for a while, I didn't go. I feel for many people, they avoid cemeteries because of negative emotions or because they don't feel the spirit of the person is still there. I think for me both of those reasons were definitely the case - I resented that place.

So it's been interesting for me to be back recently to visit his grave. I feel I've grown tremendously spiritually over the years and while I do feel close to my father spiritually, I've grown to enjoy visiting him. It may seem strange for people who haven't lost a close loved one, but I'm unashamed to say that when I go there, I will sit on the grass, clean the grave marker up a bit and talk to him about everything that is going on my life.

It was peculiar to me this last time I visited him though. I noticed from a distance that a mother was walking around the cemetery with her two children. They didn't seem sad and didn't seem to be looking for any specific grave site - they were just walking around looking at different ones. I heard one of the younger kids call out that he saw a grave site for a baby - and it made me remember when I was younger, walking around the different graves, trying to do the math in my head of how old someone was when they had passed away. Or when my family and I would go to visit my dad's grave and see an area that had just been relayered with sawd because someone had just been buried there - and show our respect by walking around it and not over it. Or when my family would bring flowers to my dad's grave and just sit and talk to each other, strengthening our relationships with each other. And I guess that's when it hit me that the idea of death has been something I had learned to accept at a very young age - And it made me wonder if these kids at the cemetery were in the process of learning it too. It was beautiful that day - sunny, warm breeze, lovely view of the valley - it made me realize that death and learning to accept it can actually be quite beautiful as well.

bittersweet

I should be in bed. I have work in the morning and I'm pretty tired from my shift today.

That's the recipe for a blog session, folks. My mind is busy with ideas, expectations, plans and goals and there is no way I can sleep without getting at least some of it out. Those who visit my blog occasionally may think I haven't written in a while. Truth of the matter is, I've written a few blogs over the past few weeks, but I post them at night and remove them in the morning. It's essentially been the same thing as writing a letter to someone you'd really love to tell off and then just burning the letter instead of mailing it. The words I wrote were useless negativity pointed toward the idea of being here and not knowing why. Writing is therapeutic (and sometimes an escape) for me and I got rid of those emotions by writing what I truly felt. But re-reading those postings in the morning, I'd realize I didn't want anyone to see it. You understand, right?

At any case, I am doing very well now. After 3 1/2 long weeks of waiting to hear back from my interview, I was offered an assistant bakery manager position at the Harmon's in West Jordan. The hours are random, the pay is good (with strong possibilities of overtime) and the crew I work with is mature and great to be around. I couldn't ask for better at this point. Now I can focus on filling the financial hole I dug myself into from the economy back in Chicago, continuing to be with my family and friends at every chance I get and when I have time, count down the days until I go back to see Scott again. (31 days or so, by the way...)

What have I been up these past few weeks, you may ask? Lunch with my grandpa and aunts, dinners at my moms, spending quality time with my sister and her family one day and my other sister and her family the next, working out more than I ever expected myself to, clubbing with friends, getting drunk with friends, brunch with friends, lunch with friends, watching some new releases in the movie theaters and hating every single one of them, reading, laughing until I can't breathe with my brother and his family, going on random drives, watching the sunrise at my dads grave, learning Italian, sleeping, dreaming, writing, dancing, baking, missing Scott, running, playing Wii and actually getting decent at it, watching the entire series (up to this point) of Brothers and Sisters, attending mass, getting my cards read by a psychic, contemplating, meditating, praying, staring blankly and then snapping out of it only to wonder how long I was actually staring blankly...

It's been a busy couple of weeks. And while I've had such a great experience here so far, I still miss my home in Chicago everyday - I miss seeing Scotts facial expressions daily (especially when he's trying to be mad, but I can see a slight smirk on his face), I miss sex and the connection I felt with him, I miss knowing he's just in the other room looking at opera on youtube, I miss entertaining guests in our home, I miss my cats and how they meow for no reason, I miss experiementing with recipes in my kitchen...

So while I feel I'm where I'm supposed to be, it's completely bittersweet. And not in a delicious chocolately sort of way. (Well, maybe in that sort of way.)