Friday, February 29, 2008

Time machine

When I read scribblings prompt time machine, I instantly thought of the one place I know I would like to go back to.......

My dad passed away when I was 3 years old. My memories of him are more ingrained in me because of the stories I've heard about him. I'm not sure if they're real memories. My dad had a heart condition that was brought on from having Rheumatic Fever as a child.( With todays medical technology, he could have been cured with ambulatory surgery.) He was frail and restricted from vigorous activities. One story about him was that he always carried me around on his shoulders. My mom would always worry that I was too heavy and would tell him to put me down. As a parent myself, I understand why he didn't listen. If you know you aren't going to be with your kids for too much longer, you take your chances and hang on tight. I was ( and still am) " the baby" of the family.
( When you are "the baby" you take this title with you till the end! I'm 48 and my mom still refers to me as the baby).


The weird thing about losing someone so important at such a young age is that the grieving process is the opposite of losing someone as an adult. As an adult the pain is present for a long time and fades a bit, the longer time has passed. The opposite is what I've been experiencing. Of course at 3 years old I had no clue of what was happening to my family. As I grew, there were times I felt curious and even embarrassed about not having a dad. During my teen years, I thought often of him and wanted to hear the stories and "get to know" him. As a young woman planning my wedding I wept -- knowing that he wouldn't walk me down the aisle. He wouldn't know the woman I had become or the man I was going to spend my life with. Now, 45 years after he has died, I think of him often and get choked up as I am now, trying to write this.
One of my favorite songs brings me to tears each time I hear it. It is Bjorks version of an old song called oh my papa. In her native icelandic language it translates to Pabbi Minn. <- If you click this you can hear her beautiful version. Even though I don't understand a word she is saying, I can't hear this song without missing my poor dad. As I listen to her flawless, gripping voice- I can imagine myself weightless on his loving shoulders, being carried into my future with him always being there, making my childhood simply idyllic......

And this is the place my time machine would take me to, back to my Pabbi minn, back up on his shoulders, trying to inhale every last detail of his face, his smile, his warmth, his scent and his precious paternal love.



this is from my post 'pabbi minn'- originally dated 1/8/07
(random photo courtesy of internet)

20 comments:

paisley said...

lucy,, this is such a tender loving post,, the part of you that will forever be the baby wrote it,, i can hear her speaking to me thru your words... thank you for allowing us to share this intimate moment in your heart....

susiej said...

Amazing how much he has touched your life is so many ways -- in all of your stages. It's terribly, sad. In this wonderful picture, he looks so alive, and it's hard to believe he's gone.

Little Wing said...

Lucy, ((((((((HUGS)))))))))
What a beautiful and touching post.
I am crying with you.

Laini Taylor said...

Hi Lucy! Thank you for your sweet comments on Sunday Scribblings! This is a wonderful post -- I've never heard anyone talk about the grieving process being different when you lose someone when you're very young, but the way describe it here, it makes perfect sense. The song is beautiful too. Love Bjork.

texasblu said...

Beautiful tribute to your Dad. I'm glad you have those stories shared with you so that you can "remember" him. :)

Scout said...

What a beautiful post. I never thought about it the way you put it. It makes perfect sense.

May you find peace in the memories you do have, even if they are old and vague.

UL said...

loved this post lucy....such a tribute to your Dad

Crafty Green Poet said...

beautiful tribute to your dad

redness said...

Thank you for being so generous amd sharing your inner most feelings. Do you wonder if it's more so because it's impossible? I know we become more melancholy more curious about our past as we age, please don't fret ;) xx

gautami tripathy said...

Lucy, thanks for sharing something so important with us. You gave us a part of yourself here.

I sincerely somday that time machine works for you. Who knows, it might just!

Hugs!

myrtle beached whale said...

Very moving post and memory of your dad.

I did notice that you must have been a real lard ass at 3 that you were a danger to pick up.

keith hillman said...

Oh Lucy,this is one of the most moving and tender pieces I have read. I hope it wasn't to difficult for you to write.

giggles said...

Another heart rendering story so well written! Thanks again for sharing such an intimate part of your pain!

Love Sherrie

colleen said...

Funny, I wrote about my father in my Time Machine post, and I mentioned him leaving me at the age of 3 too; only he came back (just barely because WWII took it's toll). This post was very touching and enlightening as to the grief process. I'm more familiar with the other end of it. Thank you.

The Mama Bear said...

I want to cry....what a wonderful memory to go back to and what a great picture.
I was blessed to choose to read this one today...if you should read my post today you might understand.

Amarettogirl said...

This brought tears to my eyes...I too always struggled growing up with the absence of a father - like when college friends would get letters or carepackages or phonecalls from dad. But my dad is still alive. Your writing was powerful, eloquent and filled with tender love and beauty.

Just Jen said...

Very touching...
I am also the 'baby' of the family, I think it touches the youngest differently because we are the baby. We hear our older siblings telling stories we weren't a part of and it's strange. Kind of a foreign attachment but the love is the same. It's eternal...

Patois said...

What a lovely post, with such sadness and beauty.

Preethi said...

very touching.. I lost my mom when I was 24 and I experienced the loss as an adult. I cant imagine how it would be to lose a parent as a kid!! My husband lost his dad as a kid and he had a very different experience with grief too..

My time capsule

daisies said...

this is incredibly moving .. you know my husband lost his dad when he was five and he still struggles with it all .. hugs honey, xo