Nice reflective essay, Michelle, and a good tribute to your father. I like how you retell his life "in the dash", recalling both the good and the somehow difficult aspects of his life. Both of my parents died when I was 8, so I tend to understand stories of loss well.
Sorry you didn't get to give him a funeral, it would have at least signified a ceremonial ending. I don't thing the endings that death imposes ever make sense though; sometimes we just have to take what we're given.
We stay with the memories, light as e-books but still heavy as paperbacks. We let these memories float in the air, living in them as they live in us, knowing that one day, we too will become these for those who'll get to mourn our demise.
That's a beautiful response, Patrick. Thank you. Man, you lost both of your parents at eight? How terrible. I lost my mum at twelve and that was bad enough... I'm so sorry. But yes, it does give you an early empathy, doesn't it, for the losses experiences by others. I love your idea of living in the memories as they live in us... Thank you.
Yeah. Saw something you had written about your mom, sorry about losing her at that age. And thanks, I often say that I've lived many lives - I've stayed with aunts, uncles, and guardians. (Life was characterized by poverty, so it was tough even before being orphaned.) Had to grow up early, but, eventually, I ended up just fine.
I think life is tough for many people around the world. Different problems in different settings, but trying life nonetheless. We should do the best with what fate hands us. In the long run, things tend to get better. Besides, losing early toughens someone, and a life of scarcity did teach me things I wouldn't have learned otherwise - things that I'm grateful for.
Thanks, once again, Michelle. I'm sure we'll get to talk about these and other things as we continue to write on here.
Michelle - this piece moved me in ways I can’t properly contain in a single comment. This is breathtakingly beautiful. I am sorry you didn’t have the opportunity to lay your father to rest in ceremony. These words, though, what an amazing tribute to your dad. The storytelling skipped down to you, for sure.
I lost my dad - a longtime smoker with that same lingering hacking cough- in March of 2020. His wake was the very last one allowed before Covid shut the doors of the funeral home. Throughout the pandemic, watching the death toll creep up, and seeing so many families that could not say goodbye - that could not have funerals broke my heart.
These words of remembrance are scattered in the stratosphere and atmosphere along with Herman’s ashes. Trust that they’ve been received.
I miss my dad’s eyes (they were green, too) and his cackling laugh and jokes that he told repeatedly. And I want to thank you for sharing Herman with us here on the page. I feel like it helped nudge my grief process along another notch.
Allison, I'm so sorry for the loss of your green-eyed, smoking dad. My dad told the same jokes over and over too! I'm so glad that you were to give your dad a proper send-off, and I'm pleased that my post might have helped you move your grief fractionally along. For as long as you remember your dad's cackling laugh, he's still with you. 😊 Thank you so much for reading. 💕
Re-reading this today, after your Note. It is a beautiful tribute, honouring a life. The pain of others is hard to reconcile with such an expression of love. I hope they come to see things a little differently in time. Best wishes for your upcoming move, and all the new adventures that lie ahead.
Thank you so much, Ofifoto, for reading and for understanding. And thank you for the wishes for our move... I'll look forward to sharing all about our new adventures here. 💕
Wow, Michelle. I'm so glad you shared this post with me. I'm sorry to hear about the passing of your dad, and that you weren't able to say goodbye in the traditional way because of the pandemic. My heart goes out to you. He sounds like a lovely man, and I hope I'm not overstepping in saying that I bet he'd be touched by your words in this post. I can feel his presence in your writing like a warm hug. Thank you for sharing part of his story with us, too, so he can live on in your memories on the page.
You're not at all overstepping, Kaitlyn. Thank you. I really hope Dad would be touched. I wrote the post with all the love in the world, and I'm so glad to hear that it reads that way. I feel like he lives on with each person who reads some of his story... Thank you. 🙏
It was your rendering of the idea I was complimenting though! Always for crediting ideas but there's something wonderful in adding your own meaning to them 😊
Beautifully expressed as always Michelle. I remember how you spoke lovingly about your Dad and he was full of mischievous humour at your wedding in Scotland. I also t
Oh man you touched on some emotional points here. I have moved a lot and left a lot behind. It’s life’s detritus but it haunts you later when you miss it. 😢
Yes, it's strange, isn't it, how much you miss stuff. It's just stuff, but it all means something. In five months I'll be carrying Dad's collection of cameras to their fourth country. I'll never use them but they were his. I'm hope there aren't too many things haunting you. Thank you so much for reading.
Whole essays have/will be written on stuff. The memories are the important part as you’ve written. Often regret, sorrow, or other emotions are triggered by those things. I find it liberating to leave stuff behind but often the emotions come anyway.
I am sitting here with tears in my eyes. I lost my sister not too long ago and the funeral and burial were such an important part for me, I’m sorry you didn’t get to experience that but I’m happy you are releasing him with words now 💛
Oh, Tansie, I'm so sorry. Losing my brother or one of my sisters would be loss on a scale that I can't even imagine. I'm glad that you got to say a proper goodbye. I hope you've found places to put the love that you can no longer give to your sister. 💕
This piece moved me deeply, Michelle. I am sorry for the loss of your dad, for the now-regretful giveaway of your books, and for the regret you feel around not having that funeral. My dad also died in 2021, in January of that year, from COVID. Two weeks later, my mom died of COVID and a broken heart. My relationship with both of them was complex (perhaps true of nearly all of us with our parents), and it wasn't rainbows and unicorns. But in the end, there was healing. But there were also regrets. Thank you for writing in such a way to honor the complexity, and the love underneath it all.
Oh, Maia, how devastating that year must have been for you. I'm so very sorry for your double dose of pain in such a devastatingly short space of time. Yes, our relationships with our parents are so complex, and filled with so much love, even if the love isn't always best expressed. I'm glad you've been able to heal, and I hope that you've found some peace, it that is possible, with the regrets. x
Nice reflective essay, Michelle, and a good tribute to your father. I like how you retell his life "in the dash", recalling both the good and the somehow difficult aspects of his life. Both of my parents died when I was 8, so I tend to understand stories of loss well.
Sorry you didn't get to give him a funeral, it would have at least signified a ceremonial ending. I don't thing the endings that death imposes ever make sense though; sometimes we just have to take what we're given.
We stay with the memories, light as e-books but still heavy as paperbacks. We let these memories float in the air, living in them as they live in us, knowing that one day, we too will become these for those who'll get to mourn our demise.
That's a beautiful response, Patrick. Thank you. Man, you lost both of your parents at eight? How terrible. I lost my mum at twelve and that was bad enough... I'm so sorry. But yes, it does give you an early empathy, doesn't it, for the losses experiences by others. I love your idea of living in the memories as they live in us... Thank you.
Yeah. Saw something you had written about your mom, sorry about losing her at that age. And thanks, I often say that I've lived many lives - I've stayed with aunts, uncles, and guardians. (Life was characterized by poverty, so it was tough even before being orphaned.) Had to grow up early, but, eventually, I ended up just fine.
I think life is tough for many people around the world. Different problems in different settings, but trying life nonetheless. We should do the best with what fate hands us. In the long run, things tend to get better. Besides, losing early toughens someone, and a life of scarcity did teach me things I wouldn't have learned otherwise - things that I'm grateful for.
Thanks, once again, Michelle. I'm sure we'll get to talk about these and other things as we continue to write on here.
I hope so, Patrick. It's so lovely getting to know people here. I'm very grateful for your thoughts. 🙏
Michelle - this piece moved me in ways I can’t properly contain in a single comment. This is breathtakingly beautiful. I am sorry you didn’t have the opportunity to lay your father to rest in ceremony. These words, though, what an amazing tribute to your dad. The storytelling skipped down to you, for sure.
I lost my dad - a longtime smoker with that same lingering hacking cough- in March of 2020. His wake was the very last one allowed before Covid shut the doors of the funeral home. Throughout the pandemic, watching the death toll creep up, and seeing so many families that could not say goodbye - that could not have funerals broke my heart.
These words of remembrance are scattered in the stratosphere and atmosphere along with Herman’s ashes. Trust that they’ve been received.
I miss my dad’s eyes (they were green, too) and his cackling laugh and jokes that he told repeatedly. And I want to thank you for sharing Herman with us here on the page. I feel like it helped nudge my grief process along another notch.
❤️🙏🏼
Allison, I'm so sorry for the loss of your green-eyed, smoking dad. My dad told the same jokes over and over too! I'm so glad that you were to give your dad a proper send-off, and I'm pleased that my post might have helped you move your grief fractionally along. For as long as you remember your dad's cackling laugh, he's still with you. 😊 Thank you so much for reading. 💕
Re-reading this today, after your Note. It is a beautiful tribute, honouring a life. The pain of others is hard to reconcile with such an expression of love. I hope they come to see things a little differently in time. Best wishes for your upcoming move, and all the new adventures that lie ahead.
Thank you so much, Ofifoto, for reading and for understanding. And thank you for the wishes for our move... I'll look forward to sharing all about our new adventures here. 💕
Wow, Michelle. I'm so glad you shared this post with me. I'm sorry to hear about the passing of your dad, and that you weren't able to say goodbye in the traditional way because of the pandemic. My heart goes out to you. He sounds like a lovely man, and I hope I'm not overstepping in saying that I bet he'd be touched by your words in this post. I can feel his presence in your writing like a warm hug. Thank you for sharing part of his story with us, too, so he can live on in your memories on the page.
You're not at all overstepping, Kaitlyn. Thank you. I really hope Dad would be touched. I wrote the post with all the love in the world, and I'm so glad to hear that it reads that way. I feel like he lives on with each person who reads some of his story... Thank you. 🙏
This is so beautiful, thank you. The part about living in the dash has really stuck with me
Thanks so much for reading, Daniela. I wish I could remember which movie had the thing about the dash! I'll credit the writer one day 😊
It was your rendering of the idea I was complimenting though! Always for crediting ideas but there's something wonderful in adding your own meaning to them 😊
Thank you 😊
So beautiful and moving in so many ways ♥️
Thanks so much, Marzena. It's lovely to know that you're reading! x
Beautifully expressed as always Michelle. I remember how you spoke lovingly about your Dad and he was full of mischievous humour at your wedding in Scotland. I also t
Thanks so much, Frances. I'm so glad you met my dad! Yes, he was fun. "Mischievous humour" is a good description. Thanks for reading! x
Third time I lost my text...I will continue later on the PC as phone is letting me down
I'm on my PC now cos Substack and my phone are not a good match! I feel your pain 😂
More to write when the house calms down here xx
Oh man you touched on some emotional points here. I have moved a lot and left a lot behind. It’s life’s detritus but it haunts you later when you miss it. 😢
Beautifully written.
Yes, it's strange, isn't it, how much you miss stuff. It's just stuff, but it all means something. In five months I'll be carrying Dad's collection of cameras to their fourth country. I'll never use them but they were his. I'm hope there aren't too many things haunting you. Thank you so much for reading.
Stuff. 🙄
Whole essays have/will be written on stuff. The memories are the important part as you’ve written. Often regret, sorrow, or other emotions are triggered by those things. I find it liberating to leave stuff behind but often the emotions come anyway.
Thanks again Michelle. 🙏
I actually have an essay about stuff in the works... How terribly derivative 😂
😂
I am sitting here with tears in my eyes. I lost my sister not too long ago and the funeral and burial were such an important part for me, I’m sorry you didn’t get to experience that but I’m happy you are releasing him with words now 💛
Oh, Tansie, I'm so sorry. Losing my brother or one of my sisters would be loss on a scale that I can't even imagine. I'm glad that you got to say a proper goodbye. I hope you've found places to put the love that you can no longer give to your sister. 💕
What a very kind thing to say. Thank you so much, Christopher. And thank you for being there.
I’m honered to have attended Herman’s funeral with you in this story. Thank you so much for including all of us!!
This piece moved me deeply, Michelle. I am sorry for the loss of your dad, for the now-regretful giveaway of your books, and for the regret you feel around not having that funeral. My dad also died in 2021, in January of that year, from COVID. Two weeks later, my mom died of COVID and a broken heart. My relationship with both of them was complex (perhaps true of nearly all of us with our parents), and it wasn't rainbows and unicorns. But in the end, there was healing. But there were also regrets. Thank you for writing in such a way to honor the complexity, and the love underneath it all.
Oh, Maia, how devastating that year must have been for you. I'm so very sorry for your double dose of pain in such a devastatingly short space of time. Yes, our relationships with our parents are so complex, and filled with so much love, even if the love isn't always best expressed. I'm glad you've been able to heal, and I hope that you've found some peace, it that is possible, with the regrets. x
Such a moving tribute to your father. Thank you for writing this beautiful essay and sharing it with us.