Every once in awhile Maile asks me where my Dad is. I always tell her the truth…that he died when I was a little girl and that now he lives with Jesus. I have a few pictures around the house and every once in awhile I’ll mention how goofy her Grandpa was, but I can tell she doesn’t really get it.
Maile right now is one year younger than I was when my Dad died. Part of what scares me about the possibility of losing Pat is I’d have to raise my kids through it. Watch them suffer, feel helpless, and almost re-experience it all over again. When I voice my concern of the “what if Pat dies” scenario to my Mom she sometimes reminds me of the unlikelihood of something like that happening, “you know Kathy….most people manage to make it through childhood without suffering the loss of a family member…it’s not normal to lose parents when you’re so young…it really is possible that your kids are going to be just fine and Pat is going to live a long and healthy life…”
To which I usually respond by saying, “Yeah I know just what IF!”
Stupid what if questions.
Will they ever stop tormenting me?
My mom and my sisters and I went through a hope chest filled with Dad’s old stuff in an attempt to divvy up what remained of his possessions. I guess we had put the task off long enough.
I had what my family refers to as the “bubble” around me pretty much the whole time. The bubble is that happy place and good attitude you have as long as you don’t think about painful details. You can answer questions and talk about the past and move right along as long as you don’t allow yourself to step INTO the memory. To feel it again. To think too hard about a look or a movement. When that happens the bubble starts cracking.
As we flipped through the Hope Chest we oohed and ahhed over re-discovered treasures, we laughed at his old pictures, and we marveled at the fact that someone’s entire life can be reduced to a few coveted objects in a hope chest.
Someone’s ENTIRE life.
Reduced to objects in a hope chest.
Fascinating.
But considering this person was MY Dad…it was just really sad.
We pulled out his yearbooks and read all the funny entries and were like “does anyone want this?” and when no one would step up to take it we were like “so what? Do we throw away his YEARBOOK??” It just seemed wrong. To throw away his stuff. His memories. His certificates.
Every piece of writing, every paper, every certificate, every picture, every letter offered another clue, another glimpse into his life. His handwriting. His friendships. His story. How do you throw away his yearbook? And yet if he were here that yearbook would have been tossed long ago. He placed no value in that. What grown man cares about his high school yearbook?
Funny how the most insignificant items suddenly seem SO important when it’s all you have left of that person.
dysfunctional mom says
Man, this is so sad. But it’s a good reminder to make every day worthwhile.
Love that pic!
Via says
No kid should have to lose a parent. And your mom’s right…it’s not a norm. But I’ve been there, with the box of belongings not really knowing what to do with them. It’s not easy!
Angel says
I didn’t lose my dad till 3 years ago. But I can understand the pain, it really inst better the older we are. Now we are having to fight his “widow” for anything of his. We hve spent 3 years and 4 grand fighting her in court and we are finally getting the tables turned. My heart aches for you. As an older daughter who lost her father let me tell you the same little girl shows up in those moments.
Michie says
Big Hugs…you brought tears to my eyes. Although, I haven’t lost a parent I have lost many others in my life. It is so sad that our lives come down to the material items we leave behind. I had to do just the same thing with my mother last year when my grandmother passed away, it is so hard to make those keeper and toss decisions.
God bless.
Resh Rene` says
I’m so sorry for you, I know you have heard it a million times, but I am. I’ve never experienced the loss of a parent an I am thankful for that, because even though my parents are not a part of my daily life I still know they are there.
As an adult I have lived in a bubble just from the adulthood travels and it seems weird but I fight hard to keep that bubble in place. I try not to focus on the what ifs either, but when you are wired that way it’s just a part of who you are. My Hubs tells me all the time not to focus on the what ifs,that it will make you crazy (as if I’m not already), but I think it’s harder for wives who’s husbands travel a lot and are gone so much.
Hahaha I think we are able to keep some sort of sanity KNOWING that they will be home soon and can give us a break from the chaos that we tame on a daily basis. SO it worries me to think that one day it could change.
Keep your head up which is easier sad then done, and remember you have people who enjoy you for who you are, and all of what has made you YOU.
I hope you are able to have a wonderful day!
Scary Mommy says
I fear that too, but have no basis for that fear. I’m so sorry that you do. :(
Karen, author of "My Funny Dad, Harry" says
My grandfather died when my dad was just 3. His mother never remarried. I never got to know either of my grandfathers so certainly can relate to your child here. As far as tossing out you dad’s things, it’s hard but there comes a time to do it. I would have loved to have kept everything that had some sentimental value or that was important to my dad, but just didn’t have the space. Mostly I chose to keep the things that had some practical use that I could use and let go of most of the other stuff. A person’s life is so much more than things. The memories, the things you learned from him, that is what’s most important. My advice is to throw out the yearbook–it’s really just clutter at this point and your dad would most likely think so too.
Amanda @ Serenity Now says
Hugs for you. I lost my dad to cancer when I was 16, and I can relate to you on so many levels!! My husband is having minor surgery today (no big deal), but inside I am freaking out completely. Thanks for sharing from your heart today. :)
Lauren says
My dad had this ratty green robe that he wore year after year, long after it should have been upgraded. It is in a box at my mom’s house, because no wants it but no one wants to let it go either. That robe just seems to embody so much of who my dad was. It sucks when parents die.
Jannica says
I have never lost anyone close to me. You brought tears to my eyes, because I can’t even imagine what it would be like to deal with those emotions.
Justine says
{{{{{{{{{{Kat}}}}}}}}} I’m so sorry that you lost your dad, and at such a young age. Your mom is right though, you can’t live every day in the “what if” frame of mind. That being said, I think we all do it anyway. Life (and death) is scary business.
Justine
Jennifer says
Big hugs for you! I can only imagine how hard that must be.
Hubby and I recently went through all the stuff we brought with us when we moved. Our lives reduced to two large tupperware bins. I think about my girls going through this stuff when I’m gone….and have been so tempted to toss so much. But I still hold on. It’s our lives, our story….and I’m not ready to let it go yet.
~ Jennifer
http://thetoyboxyears.blogspot.com
Kristen says
My heart aches for you and your family. I can’t imagine the pain you are going through or having to face those uncertainties head on.
Big hugs and tons of sunshine heading your way.
Amy says
I can’t say that I know what you’ve been through, because I haven’t. I lost my grandfather when I was 7, but it’s different to lose a parent. I think about the fact that when I did lose my grandfather, my dad was 30. I’m 25, and I… I don’t even want to think that that’s a possibility. Just know that even though it’s many years later, I’m very sorry for your loss, though I realize no amount of “I’m sorrys” will bring your dad back. Just tell your kids all the things about your dad that you do remember, and never let them forget that even if they didn’t get to meet him, you had a wonderful dad.
Chrissy MacCEO says
Thanks for sharing this; I am sure it wasn’t easy to write. Like you, I am a huge “what if” thinker and it really can take a toll on you. {[HUGS]}
Foursons says
That bubble is my lifeline at times.
Jenny says
Hugs. I am sorry about your Dad. When my Dad lost his father when I was young he got almost all of his possessions and he still has them. He just can’t part with any of it.
June Freaking Cleaver says
Little girls need their dad – I’m sorry you lost yours far too soon. Your family seems to have been very supportive of you all these years – and if what you fear would happen (very unlikely, BTW), you and your family would step up to help YOUR children, just as they helped you.
Children are amazingly resilient – look how awesome you turned out!
Erin says
Thank you for the reminder to remember how lucky I am.
Tracy P. says
Your dad’s stuff is only reduced to a hope chest because your mom lives on and most of “his things” were “their things”. But like you said, it’s only “stuff” that wasn’t even important to him. He left you the things that mattered–his love, his strength, his values–and they only take up room in your heart. They are also present in your character and your parenting. They are called “a legacy”, which you are passing down beautifully. God gives enough grace for each day, and that is your MOM’s legacy.
gaelikaa says
Kat, it’s been almost 34 years since I lost my father at the age of just 13. And I’ve never forgotten. Not even the sound of his voice. I guess he lives in my heart. And of course I know he’s gone to be with Jesus….
WebSavvyMom says
–>Thankfully, I only know a few people who lost a parent while we were kids. One thing they came to understand as adults is that not having that person’s “stuff” didn’t lesson the memory and love of them.
Luschka says
This is a touching introspection, but I totally do not agree that the physical things in the box are what your life is reduced to. I think that what you leave behind is in your children, your friends, the people who still think of only you in certain situations (being on a boat/ship/anything like that makes me think always, without doubt of my murdered uncle, as he was a sailor). You leave behind every story you read with your child, every outing you took them on, every phonecall to a friend, every kind thing you did for a stranger.
The objects in the hope box are the things that serve as reminders, they are the prompts. Like the little ship shaped thermometer that hangs in my bathroom, but used to hang in my uncles room. They are reminders of a life, not the culmination thereof, so treasure them and allow them to foster the memories.
*hugs*
MamaOtwins+1 says
Wow- a powerful post.
But a hope chest is pieces of a person, not the whole thing. The chest serves to give us hope for our own lives with pieces of the past.
Cheryl says
I can totally relate. My dad died when I was 9 and there are not a whole lot of things left of his. The best part for me is when others tell stories about my dad. I try to take comfort in the fact that I know he loved us and would not have chosen to leave when he did, but he did impact others lives as well. {{hugs}}
Alisha says
I lost my mom when I was 6 and I try and hold on to everything that I can get of her. When I think that I should go through the things, I feel guilty that I might get rid of something. It seems so wrong. But I agree, they probably would have gotten rid of them already but…..
What your mom said hit me dead center. I have never though about that most people don’t grow up dealing with this. I just thought that everyone dealt with it somehow. I had never looked at it in that perspective….
I am going to have to think about this and dwell a little more on how I have through about others.
Just know that he left behind an amazing daughter and would have loved to see what you have become….
Emmy says
I do the what if game all of the time and I haven’t lost a parent yet. So you are perfectly sane and normal to do that.
Thank you for sharing this… it really makes you stop and think about what is really important.
Jennifer says
It sucks when the bubble gets a crack. I understand that analogy perfect.
My MIL died when she was 49. My husband will be 41 this year. I’m so scared.
My dad died at 52, eight years ago (I really can’t believe it has been that long). I was grown and it was still horrid. Still is. I can’t imagine being a kid and having to move on day after day with that burden of grief.
S Club Mama says
You know, I have both my parents and I still worry about “what if I lose Anthony?” I can joke about it even but it’s a real fear buried inside. I don’t know what I’d do. But I also know that men in my dad’s family don’t really make it past 55 and he’s 48 so I just don’t know what I’ll do without him still.
erica says
I would want to hold on to every piece too…
Leslie Limon says
I have been following (and enjoying) your blog for a few months now, but have never left a comment. But this post really spoke to me. Only the belongings that I have aren’t those of my parents, but of my brother. He died at the age of 20 months, before I was born.
I never knew him, but my grandmother kept his baby book with lots of pictures and details of all of his firsts; first solid food, first words and first step. My grandmother gave me the book when I got married. I have it on the shelf with all of our family albums. Every once and a while, I look through my brother’s baby book. Although I never met him, I still mourn for him. And whenever I look through his things, I wonder to myself, who’s going to keep this book when I die. I hope my children don’t throw it away, but I also think why would they want to keep a book of someone they never knew.
Greetings from Mexico!
Jen @ buried with children says
It is crazy to think about. And I just realized that maybe, I throw too many things away. I don’t keep anything, really. What would fill ‘my’ hope chest?
Great post. You touched my heart.
Rhonda says
I have to tell you, when I saw the title I was totally expecting a boob post. I thought, oh, is it time for the Bachelor recap?
But instead, a sweet, sweet post on your wonderful dad, your brave mom and sad children rediscovering their dad.
Wonderful post, Kat.
Pooba says
Wow, I can’t imagine what it would have been like to grow up without a dad. Thinking about losing my dad at this point in my life scares me to death, I don’t think I could handle it.
I know what you mean about little tokens meaning so much. But what do you do with it? Pack them in a box in storage and never look at it again? Or does it become part of a cluttered book shelf growing dust?
It’s hard to know what to do with such things because that’s all they are right? Things. Yet they seem like so much more.
Blythe says
What a fascinating and saddening experience, to go through that hope chest. I hope that it was helpful for you and your family, and left you with more memories of your father!
BelovedAimee says
I lost my mom two summer’s ago. At the time we were in the process of moving,,across the country. We had all our stuff in storage. I had to be very particular about what things I kept of my mom’s. And now that I am resettled in our new home I look in the closet at “the box” and “the picture box” of all that remains of my mother’s whole home. While going through her things I felt the same way–how can a person’s life be reduced to the “keep”, “throw away” and “donate” pile. I try to remind myself that the “things” are not what made my mother’s life but it’s still something tangible that we need. That we cling to. I had a towel that smelled like her. I put it in a ziplock back and would pull it out and smell it. A few weeks ago I pulled it out and it smelled like Ivory Soap. I stored the soap to close to the towel in the cupboard…and now my mommy’s smell is gone. It wasn’t the towel …it wasn’t the texture, it was the smell. The smell of her in her home. And that smell is gone. It’s stupidly heartbreaking.
heather says
oh gosh. i can’t even begin to imagine…i’m so sorry. i don’t think i could toss the yearbook-even though you are absolutely right that he likely would have tossed it himself. maybe just keep it in the hope chest. thank you for sharing a bit about your dad. again i’m sorry.
Jen says
It is amazing how someone’s life is reduced to a box when they’re gone. I think that’s why it’s so important to keep their love and memories with you. Their love, and your memory of them, lives on, and it is significantly greater than things in a box.
Don’t worry, Kathy… your mother is right, but I can understand your doubt, especially considering your daughter is reaching the age you were when your dad died. I’m sure it’s very hard, but Maile’s father is there to help you through it.
Christie says
It sucks, pure and simple IT JUST SUCKS! I love my mom over 20 years ago when I was ten. She left behind two daughters and very little “hope chest” trinkets. My father, and my step-mother, threw away most of her things when they remarried and we all moved. I still have a few things of hers set asided and I cherish everything. Even just the tiniest notes with her hand writing are so deeply precious to me.
I am now at the age when my mother was diagnosed with cancer and I too have two very young children. I think it’s different because you lost your dad in how you wonder how you would survive without your husband and their father. I wonder about my own mortality and how my girls would make it without me. She was only 32 when she died and that will always be in the back of my head. 32.
Thank you for your post.
Stephanie @ Geezees says
Thank you for sharing this story…what an emotional post!
Cecilia says
I lost my Dad when I was 3, and I have the same thoughts and feelings. Thanks for putting it out there.
Los says
I don’t even want to think about this with regards to my parents, who are certainly getting older … it makes me sick to my stomach.
Lolli says
My dad passed away from cancer when I was 2 1/2, and one of my biggest fears after I had kids of my own was not in dying itself, but in my kids not remembering me after I died. I can’t remember my dad, and all I have left of him are pictures, a few letters, and a jacket.
3 Men & a Lady says
I’m so sorry you didn’t have your dad growing up… every kid deserves that experience and it’s not fair.
I would totally hold on to even the most insignificant momentos.. but that’s me- I hoard stuff like that (not like those people on tv, just in a memory box, lol). I save ticket stubs and all kinds of odd things that connect me to people or certain memories.
Smart Ass totally looks like your dad, btw.
Shelley says
What a sweet, sincere post. I love the idea of a Hope Chest. It makes me wonder what would be in mine if I had one. Like, if your life was summarized down into a few possessions what would they be? It’s a thinker!
Jenners says
This was so heartbreaking. I know what you mean … although I didn’t lose my dad when I was young, I’m still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that my dad is gone and all that is left is his things.
Love that photo.
Sandra says
Makes me want to drive to my DAd’s and hug him…
Have I ever told you, your Dad looks a lot like Shel Silverstein?
Kelly says
I lost my Dad when I was 12 so I completely understand the “what if” scenarios. I obsessed more about my husband reaching my dad’s age when he passed rather than my age I was when my Dad passed….after Bill passed 35, the thoughts stopped haunting me. Now I just play the “what if” games about other things
Tickled Pink Twice says
I can’t imagine loosing a parent. The concept of loosing a parent never occurred to me until I became a parent. I almost hate even thinking about it because I feel like I’m cursing myself.
I love that there is a hope chest with his memories in it. I haven’t heard someone talk about a hope chest in quite a while.
Rebecca says
I lost my dad going on 12 years ago. Regardless of how close you were, losing a parent is a traumatic experience. The few things I still have of my dad’s are in a briefcase in the corner of my closet. The sad part is that was almost all of his possessions at the time of his death…
Rebecca says
Actually, it’s ironic that this was all brought up beings today is my dad’s birthday…
Lourie says
Those things will be for your kids so they can know him the way you did. Thanks for sharing.
Erin says
At least you have that….aside from pics I don’t have anything from my father. But I have albums and albums of pics that my mom always put together of my brother and I growing up and my dad….THOSE are what I panic over. I made scanned copies, but they are just in the closet…what if there is a fire…then all my pics…GONE, all my memories of both the men that are now gone…up in smoke….ohhh I shrudder just thinking about it!
Amy says
I am so not good with this subject. Don’t like to talk about it really. I am a what if kind of person too. What if I die and the girls don’t remember me? One of my worst fears! What if something happens to Jacob? What will I do? What if something happens to one of my girls? I am horrible. Everyday is full of what ifs! Perhaps it is because I lost my baby sister when I was young and feel her absence daily. I am glad that I am not the only one who does this, not the only one in a “bubble”. I am so sorry for you loss for the pain you suffered as a child and for the pain you still have. Hugs to you!
Kimberly says
This post really hit home. The stuff is all we have left of this person who is gone and that makes it really hard to part with. I lost my dad almost 5 years ago. I recently did some spring cleaning in the garage and found a bunch of stuff that my dad had given me – a baseball glove and ball, a big horse book – stuff that I didn’t even remember I had until I found it. The plan was to clean, but that kind of thing was put back in a box. I couldn’t bear to throw it out.
adrianscrazylife says
What a great post. I have similar feelings about my Dad. All I have from him is a set of old golf clubs and a couple of sweaters, along with a few old pictures. He’s been gone for more than 15 years and my sister and I are just about the only ones who remember him. That’s pretty sad really.
Sally says
My grown daughter and I go through my mom’s cedar chest every few years; each time I think I’ll get rid of some things, I can’t make myself do it. They’re both gone; my mom and dad. And, now since the death of my 17 year old grandson in 2008, we’ve begun adding things of his. It’s SO hard, but I know someday my daughter will be doing this alone.
How do you throw away yearbooks? I honest don’t know.
Tesa says
It’s so nice that you have a chest of his things. It would be very tough to divy up let alone throw anything away. I know what you mean about the “what ifs.” They haunt me often and get me nowhere, so frustrating sometimes. The added stress sometimes prevents me from enjoying life. I think recognizing though helps you move past it.
Zombie says
This was a very interesting blog. I feel like I have the same type of bubble. I’m okay and composed unless someone asks if I’m alright. Then ALL the waterworks move in full motion.
I haven’t lost any member of my immediate family, so I couldn’t possibly feel that pain. But my father was a firefighter all my life, and every time he left the house my heart sunk a little.
As for your father’s yearbooks, I do the same thing with mine. I look at them and go wow these bring back memories and then put them back in a box to be forgotten. Perhaps someday I’ll toss them out, but I think I’ll know when I’m ready.
Tara Threlkeld says
The one club girls don’t want to be part of, losing a great Dad. Thank you for sharing such an intimate part of your heart.