Why Did Dad Die?

I am 50 years-old but every now and then I pass by dad’s picture and ask him why he had to die.

Sometimes I hear him tell me about my Grandma Sophie and Grandpa Ben passing away and I remember being six or seven and learning what death was.

Other times I feel him make that one face he made, the one his two oldest grandson’s make and I see him shake his head.

“Yeah dad, I know why you died. I didn’t read the medical report or get into the specifics but I know enough. I made a point to see you afterwards just as I had with your father. I sat with both of you…afterwards.”

It wasn’t part of a plan or necessarily something I did intentionally, but there was a purpose.

A Three-Year-Old Meets Death

Boo was a goldfish who was given his name by a 3 year-old boy almost 16 years ago.

Not unlike most pet goldfish Boo had a very short life span.

One day I found the aforementioned 3 year-old blowing into Boo’s bowl because Boo no longer swam face up and was floating on his side.

And so a 3 year-old learned a little bit about death and life spans.

“Why did Boo die?”

I can see his earnest face and hear the voice that went with it.

Two days ago we talked about what it was like to see Grandpa/Dad right after the surgery and to say goodbye knowing that would be it.

The former 3 year-old was amazing that day and so impressed me with how he handled it. I remember offering him the chance to visit his grandfather in the hospice but he chose not to.

I respected it.

He wasn’t happy about saying goodbye but his grandfather had made eye contact, spoken with him and made it clear he knew exactly what the score was.

So the former 3 year-old made a decision that would probably be a better way to remember grandpa and I didn’t push it.

There seemed to be no reason to it and not having any kids there enabled me to offer support to mom and my siblings and to begin to try to figure out how I would handle things.

I got to focus on just being a son. It is my oldest role but it hasn’t been my sole focus for so long I had to think about how to do that alone.

‘Cuz you don’t go through these situations frequently, which is a good thing and that means you don’t have a ton of experience to draw upon.

Can’t do the ‘act like you have been there before’ until you actually have and then you realize you just joined a club you can never leave.

Facebook Follies

Several Facebook friends routinely post dated news articles along with outraged comments about the news contained within.

Often the news is worthy of the disgust and outrage but since the article is 2-5 years old I wonder if there is a need to be outraged a second or third time because presumably I heard about it the first time around.

Occasionally I’ll try to follow up on the story and see if the situation has improved or is still bad, but I don’t want to be the guy that gets caught in every rabbit hole.

Nor do I want to be the guy who constantly tells people they post dated or fake news. Some friends never hear from me about that because they live in an echo chamber in which they cannot accept news that doesn’t fit with their POV.

When people ask why I don’t unfriend them it is because I forget they are there and or because I hope just maybe they’ll be exposed to truth by being able to read my feed

And maybe, just maybe that will resonate with them and they’ll stop making excuses for the orange baboon.

They won’t say they think he isn’t presidential but it is ok because he does what he said he would do. I like asking how following through on bad policy and acting like an ass is admirable.

Sometimes they tell me they like a president who fights back and I say I hear that is how he likes his women and they tell me I am disrespectful towards the office.

I don’t understand the connection.

I don’t understand why they get crazy about about a member of the women’s soccer team refusing to stand for the anthem or go to the White House.

People died so she could have that right. They didn’t die so the president could try to use Twitter to bully her.

But the president can’t stand criticism and he punches back at anyone who criticizes him. Rumor has it he yells at his own shadow and has sometimes screamed obscenities after passing gas because he thinks someone is taunting him.

Why do we never get an answer
When were knocking at the door?
With a thousand million questions
About hate and death and war.

Its where we stop and look around us
There is nothing that we need.
In a world of persecution
That is burning in its greed.’

Why do we never get an answer
When were knocking at the door?
Because the truth is hard to swallow
That’s what the wall of love is for.
Question-The Moody Blues