The Father of My Children.

2 Aug 2015
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His primary legacy is one of abandonment. Thirty years. I ask myself what part did I play and would I do it again? I do not have an answer today.

The church service is remarkable and filled with awed acceptance, gratefulness for the last eight years of family involvement, and the knowledge that his homecoming is meaningful. Made so by seven precious grandchildren.

His two daughters struggle, each on her own journey, with the memories of events that lead to his departure. One remembers little and pulls him back into her life. The other remembers too much and cannot afford him the same love and acceptance as her sister. Yet they unite in their quest to honor him, their father. For the wee grandchildren. For them.

So, the focus is on the children. The seven are from twelve years old to six months. Five sons followed by two daughters. They greet guests, perform special music, and recite grandpa's poetry written to his own father. They show their own mother's stunning photographic journey of death's beckoning over the last eight years on a mammoth screen at the front of the church. Music fills the air. It is the culmination of a life and death of fleeing and addiction unshielded. Larger than life.

The photographic journey shows their participation in Grandpa's life as he travels six times into Hospice, back home, and into rehab, only to keep repeating the pattern. He'd left them for thirty years because he loved them enough to not take them down with him.

Simple. Kind. O, sliver of love; you've come again to show us the way.

Di

A Moodscope member.

A Moodscope member.

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Comments

Melanie Lowndes

Aug. 2, 2015, 7:23 a.m.

Thank you Di. This has moved me to tears. Very beautiful. Love, Melanie

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Di Murphey

Aug. 2, 2015, 7:35 a.m.

Dearest Melanie ~ Your feedback means a great deal to me. You have a kind heart and your family is fortunate to have you. Lovingly, Di

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Sally

Aug. 2, 2015, 8:19 a.m.

Very touching, Di. A funeral puts a lot of things into perspective . We have my father-in-law's tomorrow . This last month has been extraordinary in terms of family togetherness. Take care. How do you feel now about your father?

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Anonymous

Aug. 2, 2015, 9:49 a.m.

Dear Di, i think it is no small 'sliver of love' that has shown you the way. It has allowed you to transcend the great range of intense feelings and thoughts....and what remains will carry you through your life. This man, and of course your brother, had suffered much in their lives. How blessed they were to have had you. susan xx

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Di Murphey

Aug. 2, 2015, 11:32 a.m.

Dearest Sally ~ It is not written about my father. Rather, it is the father of my own personal children, my former husband.( I apologize for the confusion.) Longfellow once wrote: "If we could read the secret history of our enemies, we should find in each (person's) life sorrow and suffering enough to disarm any hostility." There is much we do not know. Thirty years' worth was never confided. I wish you & your family courage, peace, and wisdom toward making your funeral for your father-in-law meaningful. Perhaps one might ask: What is really important now that he has left you? Who is most affected or will carry the burden of his life, both good & troubling? Who needs him to be loved & accepted most? Can you, as a family unit, give this gift? Perhaps he was and is accepted for exactly who he was. Lovingly, Di

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Di Murphey

Aug. 2, 2015, 11:50 a.m.

My dearest Susan ~ Looking into the eyes of each grandchild melted away the baggage of intensely violent & sorrowful memories. It is my belief that when empathic breakdowns happen frequently with vulnerable people (children) they can cause longlasting harm. Interestingly, you mention my dear brother. Though passed from this life, it is his memory that continues to teach me daily compassion mixed with the assertiveness to allow my needs to be stated and possibly met. Compassion can infuse warmth and care into our assertiveness. I thank you for your well-written thoughts. They are a balm. Be well. Lovingly, Di

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Anonymous

Aug. 2, 2015, 1:14 p.m.

Dearest Di, I cannot write as eloquently as the others have in response to your meaningful and heartfelt blog, but I wanted to say how much it has touched me. We so often go through life with people around us who do us harm, yet if we can be compassionate, caring and loving, we can survive what they do to us, as well as still see the good in them and maybe forgive? I think you have been a strong and steadfast love in the lives of your late brother and husband, and you are still being that to your children and grandchildren. How fortunate they are to have you in their lives. Be at peace knowing that what you do daily for others, brings them peace and love. Love Karen (bearofliddlebrain.com) x x x

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Anonymous

Aug. 2, 2015, 1:58 p.m.

Aaah Di. That is beautiful. I've wept a tear or two reading that as I sit here. It is exactly this. Love prevails regardless. Children need age and space to see that the behaviour was not about them or caused by them, and then forgiveness can come. Your grown up girls have seen that. The little ones love as they are shown. I believe it is all about a good death regardless of what happened before. A good death helps everyone as it provides a solid wall of pulling together. And that is true love. I hope you all have peace with this. That was beautiful to read. Love to you, ratg xx.

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Anonymous

Aug. 2, 2015, 2:01 p.m.

Will be thinking of you tomorrow Sally. That togetherness is wonderful, I'm glad you've all had that. Love ratg x.

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Sally

Aug. 2, 2015, 7:07 p.m.

Thank you both so much for your comments,! Overwhelmed. Sorry I got the wrong end of the stick, Di. That puts a different perspective on the situation. I am mindful of your comments, and admire the depth of your feelings. These are really important questions one needs to ask. The Longfellow quote is very interesting.

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Di Murphey

Aug. 2, 2015, 8:13 p.m.

Dearest Karen ~ Indeed, you do write eloquently. Please accept this and continue to write, reflect, and grow. Your words are deeply meaningful to me and I will always treasure them. Lovingly, Di

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Di Murphey

Aug. 2, 2015, 8:17 p.m.

My dearest Room Above the Garage ~ "A good death helps everyone as it provides a solid wall of pulling together. And that is true love." Oh! how your words ring of the glory of love ~ true, gritty, golden, & sometimes difficult/messy love. Many thanks. Be well in your world. Yes, I have peace with this, thank you for your hope. Lovingly, Di

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Kirsten Coeur

Aug. 2, 2015, 10:10 p.m.

Dear Maman, Thank you for writing these words, these beautiful words that both weigh and lighten my heart, that help me to remember the beauty of my father, even to remember that I had a father. And that we did connect in a deeply meaningful way, once upon a time. I can treasure that sliver of love as my very own, and again be thankful for the peace that his passing brought to him. Love, Kirsten

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Di Murphey

Aug. 3, 2015, 1:05 a.m.

Dearest Kirsten ~ Thank you for your kind and gentle words. They mean so much. Your father had tremendous beauty in his character and in his adoration of you and your baby sister. Yes, you did connect, once upon a time. Hold fast to that memory. You are loved to the moon & back & around each star. Tsuriai & Namaste, Maman

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