Goodbye Dad
My Father recently “passed away”, or as I like to think “passed on”. He was 64, and had been severely disabled for 13 years after a stroke. During his life he was many things to many people. To some, especially in his younger years, he was a tearaway and a thug, to others he was a hero that toured the countries schools and supermarkets, collecting food for the orphans and refugees of the Bosnian war, eventually leading convoys in to the heart of the conflict to distribute it. To me he was my Dad. A man that I struggled with in my teen years, which lead me to join the Army, eventually, and ironically leaving to care for him when he first became ill.
At his funeral I talked about what he meant to me, and what I thought his legacy would be. It wasn’t until I stood there that day, that I realised what he really was to me. He was a father that desperately wanted the best for me, to see me go down the right path, and whether right or not, took action to try and set me straight. I’m proud to say he eventually witnessed this, although after a few silly detours.
As I cared for my Dad over the years, I got to witness one of the most amazing transformations. He went from a pretty grumpy guy, to a humble, very emotional, caring and loving father. After his stroke he lost most of his speech and mobility, but we found a level we could communicate on. It’s with a heavy heart that I say goodbye to my Dad, but I am thankful that we got to spend the time together that we did. It wasn’t always easy, but I don’t think it’s supposed to be.
Some words that gave me comfort are from The Waterfall by Shunryu Suzuki, a full transcript can be found here. It is from the book Zen Mind, Beginners Mind. It talks about a waterfall and it’s similarity to life. My favourite part is this:
When the water returns to its original oneness with the river, it no longer has any individual feeling to it; it resumes its own nature, and finds composure. How very glad the water must be to come back to the original river! If this is so, what feeling will we have when we die? I think we are like the water in the dipper. We will have composure then, perfect composure. It may be too perfect for us, just now, because we are so much attached to our own feeling, to our individual existence. From us, just now, we have some fear of death, but after we resume our true original nature, there is Nirvana. That is why we say, “To attain Nirvana is to pass away.” “To pass away” is not a very adequate expression. Perhaps “to pass on,” or “to go on,” or “to join” would be better. Will you try to find some better expression for death? When you find it, you will have quite a new interpretation of your life. It will be like my experience when I saw the water in the big waterfall. Imagine! It was 1,340 feet high!
Goodbye Dad x