Z

That's neat. It'll be a special connection.

ZVUGKTUBM wrote:I want to share something with you all that I didn't realize until just a few moments ago.

My niece, Dad's granddaughter, is pregnant and due any day now. In fact, she is at the hospital now and may be in early labor. Her son's name is Zander--something she and her boyfriend chose months ago.

I just referred to the baby as "Z" inadvertently. I realized that baby Z might be born today, a week after Dad's death. I decided I will call him Z and Z man. Maybe Little Z Man for a while. It just fits so well. I'm sure my dad would have done the same.

Little Z-man....I love it!

Little Z-man....I love it!


I just wish little z could have met big Z. Grandkids are the blessing which exchanges youth and strength for age and weakness. I will take grandkids over youth.

Little Z is still waiting to be born. It has been a week now since Dad passed. I'm working on an obituary for his hometown newspaper right now. I'm honored to do it.

I did some reflection this evening right around the time I said goodbye to Dad for the last time. I posted this on Facebook, but I thought I would share it here, also:

Around this time one week ago, I said “I love you” to my dad for the last time. I cried. I hugged him. I kissed his cheek. I tried to fit in everything I’ve ever wanted to say to him in the span of a few minutes. I asked him if there was anything he wanted me to know. He shook his head and mouthed the words, “You know.” I had the clear sense that my dad felt we were making him late for something. It was as if he had an appointment, and we were holding him up. He was ready. As I walked out of the room with my mom, a feeling of total numbness filled my body. Knowing without a doubt that I would never see him again felt unreal. I’m not sure I’ve ever faced such absolute certainty. A few hours later, he was gone.

I could recount the ensuing grief that followed my dad’s death, but I’m certain that it is no different from anyone else’s. Grief—like love—is something universal. Even elephants experience it. But, I don’t want to dwell on the pain of grief, but rather what it has taught me about myself and my dad. Here are some things I’ve learned. I hope that maybe they will be helpful to you a long time from now after all of your loved ones have had long and fulfilling lives.


-It gets a little bit easier every day.

-Staying busy helping people, whether your family or friends, makes the grief sting less.

-You will feel a lot closer to those people who are left behind. You need each other.

-Tears exist for a reason. Holding them in doesn’t help and can make your body very tense.

-You’re going to have a lot of intrusive thoughts, both pleasant and unpleasant. Let them in, and then let the unpleasant ones go.

-You can’t second guess yourself. You did what you thought was best.

-Never underestimate what it means to be able to talk to someone you love. Communication is the foundation of relationships.

-You’re braver than you think you are. You’ll be able to handle things you thought you couldn’t.

-Being in the physical presence of someone you love—even in silence—is powerful and comforting.

-You can never over-prepare your affairs to help your loved ones after you die. Make sure everyone knows where things are and what to do. Fill out those beneficiary forms for all your accounts. Thank you, Daddy. You’ve made our lives easier.

-Accept the help. People only give when they really want to. You’re not inconveniencing them.

-You can never give or get enough hugs. They are healing. Even from strangers.

-Memories you have forgotten about, especially those from your childhood, will suddenly come from nowhere. They may make you sad at first, but they will eventually make you smile.

-When you are trying to do something that you feel you can’t do, it is ok to talk out loud to the person who would have helped you. It will help you feel more calm, and you will surprise yourself with the right answers.

-You are going to worry that you are forgetting the sensory details, but you won’t. Their pillow still smells like them.

-Don’t be afraid to keep living. You will be tempted to want to stay connected to the grief. You will feel guilty for moving on. You must, and you will. Accepting that is important.

-There are going to be things that make you sad. That’s ok. You will never get over the grief. It will just change shape.

I’ve received so many messages from my dad’s friends. He knew many of them for decades. One common theme has emerged: he was a kind, helpful, courageous, intelligent, dedicated, hard-working, and admired man. And even though I miss him more than I can ever describe, I am so proud to be his daughter.

Beautiful.

Brooke, thank you so much for sharing your Facebook post with us. In a word, it's simply BEAUTIFUL. I find myself wishing it could reach an even wider audience.

You are very obviously a truly special individual. Just keep being as wonderful (and strong!) as you are. We're fortunate to 'know' you.

Brooke,  you are the epitome of a loving daughter. A daughter guided by the love and closeness of her father. He is proud.

You make me happy. Z lives. This is so important to me at this point. Thank you.

Very sorry to hear this news. Z was an expert in many fields and he always thought for himself. He will be sorely missed.

That was truly beautiful, Brooke. Don't you sing in a band? I believe your dad posted your picture one time?

Vikingwoman wrote:That was truly beautiful, Brooke. Don't you sing in a band? I believe your dad posted your picture one time?

I indeed was in a band until December. For 6 years, I sang in bars and clubs all over the gulf coast. Unfortunately, it ended rather abruptly and badly. To sum up a longer story, one of my band mates had a problem with me for over a year and never said anything about it. Instead, they started another band without telling me or my best friend (the other singer), and were just leading us on without being honest that they didn't think it was going to work. So, I no longer am in a band, but I got a lead on my current job shortly thereafter. Everything happens for a reason.

Thank you for your kind words. Beautiful days like today remind me of Dad. He loved weather like this. He would have talked about flying and fishing.

Band politics are like a soap opera.   You hate to see a good thing end and tune in, but folks just tune into discourse.  My son played drums in a rock band where they did original songs and had a pretty good following in Northern Illinois.  Once my son had kids he felt it had to be either be push hard to go to the next level, or he just did not have the time to devote with the kids.   They all still get along and ask him to play whenever they can, but honestly he just does not like the level of the talent in the band, or the work ethic.   People do not realize how much work and demand is put on band members.   Also, each member has a different expectation of what his or her band experience will be........so it is not by accident that ALL bands have tension......it is the nature of the beast.

The creative process can also cause problems.  My son formed his first band as sophomores in high school.  They had met this kid in another school district who was a bit of an odd artistic talent, and they decided to use his name as the band name.   Nobody connected it to that kid, but about two years later the kid died in a car accident.   Not the best situation for the family with that loss.  However, when the band was going to play in a big County outdoor concert the local paper asked them where they got the band name......and they said they used a kid's name......well the parents read the newspaper and raised a stink.   They changed the band's name, and the most talented member of the band and lead singer, decided he wanted to go to medical school and after the name stink, he just wanted out.  Their assent to the next level pretty much ended at that point, and my son was frustrated with the talent level of the replacement singer who also played lead guitar.  They changed their name, played regional events and still had a big following, but my son once the kids came along, lost interest.