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Bad dream . . .

I had a really bad dream last night. I dreamed that my mom and I were watching the Olympics, and I'm not exactly sure where we were watching them. However, for whatever reason, they were being aired live and the cameras weren't being monitored all that well, so the only choice the people who were doing the commentary had were to comment on the sad things, too.

We were watching the girls do their gymnastics floor exercises. The one girl went to do her routine and she did this fancy flip, but then she landed on the hard floor of the arena and not on the special floor for the floor exercises, and the horrible part was that she landed on her head. She wasn't moving and everybody gathered around, and sure enough, her eyes rolled back into her head and the sad news that she had passed away was broadcast.

This made me run into where my Daddy was resting as he was still alive in my dream and hug him and tell him how much I love him. Of course, I woke up with the realization that he's not here and that I didn't get to tell him one last, "I love you."

At least we have some sweet dogs . . . and at least at times I still feel that cold presence at my left arm that makes me feel warm inside.

It made my dad not so good, though . . .

Finding myself again

Does this make sense to anybody here?

I am finally once again finding the identity of "myself," and not "the daughter of." It's not that I didn't know who I was, but I was so sad and deep in grief (and I still cry and miss my Daddy a lot at times and wish he could be with me) that I just wanted to still have my dad and just be his daughter, his little girl.

Now, I can't be that person like I was. I am, but not like I was, often wanting or trying to help him and wanting him and praying for him to get better.

However, as I realize each day more and more than I am my own person and think back about how I always have been my own person for as long as I can remember, it gets a little bit better.

I understand that I am who I am.

Today. I've actually been able to write two articles so far for my job, and it feels good to be back to writing these articles because writing is what I do.

Perhaps he knows?

In church today, I closed my eyes and listened to the sermon. I used to flip through the hymnal because it seemed that I was able to concentrate on the sermon better when I did that. However, I found that closing my eyes helps me concentrate even better on what is being said.

They say that when you feel spirits, it often feels cold. I was praying while listening, and it I felt a very cold presence on my left side, not like some source of cold air, but like one that was almost embracing my arm, and I felt better.

I wanted my Daddy to know why I was so much happier at St. Michael than at St. Paul, and I think it must've been him or at least an angel that was telling me that he now knew how happy I was and that he is okay up in heaven.

Obviously, it is still so hard not having him here. My mom still talks about him as if he is alive. She says things like, "My husband is" and "My husband makes."

It just doesn't seem right, but I guess it helps her.

I still miss my dad

Yesterday, my mom got an e-mail from her Aunt Phyl. I don't know what exactly it is/was that my grandpa wanted to cut off all communication. That confuses me, but I'm glad that she found my mom because I have always wanted to know more about my family and know more of my family.

Last night I had a dream that I told this to my dad and all he said was, "Whatever."

This was pretty minor, but still did not put me in the best mood.

However, two nights ago, it was a really bad dream. I had this dream where we took him to the hospital and he died, but he was able to keep living and I said, "I hope his second body doesn't give out like his first one." This made me feel really bad like my Daddy should still be alive and like we shouldn't have had his body cremated (I know, it doesn't matter, the body would decay, anyway). However, it's just how I felt. It was such a bad dream for me . . .

My father did not die from cancer. He was killed in a car accident by a reckless driver. Having watched this community for almost 6 months now, I have seen many lives affected by cancer. Many fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, grandmothers, grandfathers, lovers, teachers, sons, daughters, mentors and friends have died from some form of this horrific disease. Because of this, I feel compelled to share what I have learned with all of you, in the hopes that a life can be saved.

This video was made in the 80's... it is long (about an hour), but I highly suggest you and everyone you love watch it.


If the link does not work, you can Google 'world without cancer'... it is the 3rd link down, a Google video entitled G.
Edward Griffin - A World Without Cancer - The Story Of Vitamin B17


Today is my parents' 39th wedding anniversary. I feel so bad for my Mom having to celebrate alone. I had a small bouquet of flowers delivered to her at work. The card just says 'Happy Anniversary'. I didn't really know what else to put... hopefully, it makes her happy and not more sad. Maybe it will be a little of both.

And, again comes the feeling that it's just unfair that Dad isn't here... it made me angry all over again.

I'll always be Daddy's little girl

Today, we got up early so we could meet Ron Begnaud, who was one of my Daddy's fishing buddies, at Prien Lake Park. We met him at the boat launch. Briana came to the park, but she did not go in the boat with us to scatter my Daddy's ashes.

Ron, my mom, and I did go out, though. It was a bit odd dropping into the boat. I sat in the middle on the ice chest and Ron and my mom sat on the back of the boat. We motored out to a nice quiet spot that Ron liked to fish and probably a spot that either my Daddy did or would've liked to fish.

My mom and I took the ashes out of the box and said goodbye and that we will always love my Daddy. I said that I'll always be Daddy's little girl. I could not taste the ashes out of curiosity like Anne Lamott did with her friend's ashes, but I did kiss the bag with the ashes saying that I loved my Daddy and I will always love him, knowing that he is truly up in heaven.

I watched as the ashes mixed with the water and made some gray swirls and slowly settled.

I asked God and prayed that maybe my Daddy could be like a "saint of fishermen" and at least let the people who fish in Prien Lake catch some big fish.

I wanted to go fishing, too. I hoped and prayed that my mom and I would catch at least one fish each.

I have never liked touching bait or fish, so Ron was nice enough to do that for me. My Daddy always had to do that for me, too. It's just not what I like to do. I never have and I doubt I ever will.

At first, Ron got a bite on his line, but he had me reel it in. It was a hardhead.

I was using a bail (bale?) reel on a rod that he had. I can't cast it like they say using only one finger on the line. I have to use my whole hand on the line. It's still a bit confusing. When I was little, my dad had made me my own fishing rod (I used to look at those little kids rods, and my dad said that he could make me my own special rod). However, that rod has been gone for years by now. (I didn't fish, but still, after so many years of using it, it got quite worn!)

Anyway, I got a bite and it was a ladyfish.

My mom and I also both caught a hardhead at some point after I had caught the ladyfish.

I actually enjoyed the boat ride the most, although my back got really sore. Ron's boat was just one of those small hulls and he did all the rigging with the motor and the things to hold rods and such.

I knew that I should watch the clouds when we were out on the water. So, while we went back to the boat launch, I looked up at the clouds. I saw "Dr. (squiggle) S (squiggle)."

If you knew my dad's handwriting, it was AWFUL! The S was the most distinctive thing in his signature. Sometimes you could make it out to be Dr. M(squiggle) S D(squiggle), but that was on a good handwriting day. It was always that S that stood out so much.

So, at least it no longer feels like my Daddy is being kept captive in some box somewhere. He never liked that at all. I'm sure he'd like his remains free - and now they are.

I believe in God, Jesus, the Holy Spirit, and going to heaven. My dad did, too. However, reassurance is always a good thing.

Thus, I've been reading books.

The first book I read is "Life After Life" by Dr. Raymond Moody. The cases are much more interesting than the odd stuff that he gets into in the book. At least the book is mainly cases from different people.

I've been reading "90 Mintues in Heaven" by Don Piper.

I play on reading "Bound to Lose, Destined to Win" by Bishop Curtis "Earthquake" Kelley and "Hello from Heaven!" by Bill and Judy Guggenheim.

I am so glad that love is eternal. I pray that Jesus lets my Daddy still look down on me and protect me. I never wanted my Daddy to die, but maybe now he can see how much I really loved him and why sometimes it just didn't seem like it. I feel like such a little girl - as if I'm just so small, back like when I was small enough to sit in my Daddy's lap.

x-posted to kagomeshuko, imissmydad, missing_dad

Scattering my dad's ashes

So, tomorrow we are going to spread my Daddy's ashes. We are meeting one of his fishing buddies at Prien Lake Park at 8am. I am still having a hard time with my Daddy's passing, but it is getting better. Hopefully this'll bring some more closure. (I'm always asked that question that people seem to always ask in these situations - why did God not allow my dad to live, even though I prayed for him to be okay?)

Some people talk about keeping some of the ashes of a loved one, but that just does not seem right to me. It seems a little bit morbid and a little bit like not having any faith that the person really is in heaven now.

When I was younger, I used to go fishing with my dad. However, that did not really interest me once I got into middle school, though I did go to a tournament with him one time. In fact, you can read about that here.

Since he loved to go fishing, it only seems right that we scatter his ashes on the water and go fishing when we do that.

So, my mom and I got our fishing lisences today. We were just going to get day passes, but they only had them for the year, so we got them because this is very important to us.

Oh, and on Wednesday. we went and bought one of the bricks for the McNeese Entrance Plaza so in a way he'll always be part of the campus.

I wrote this in my own LJ, but I'll put it again since I'm posting this to more than just mine (and sending an e-mail/posting on facebook).

It says:

Dr. Mark S. Delaney
Prof. of Chemistry
1987 - 2008

Then, I also posted these in my own LJ. It's very hard not having him here. I always imagined him giving me away at my wedding once I found the man that is right for me and at least getting to meet his first grandchild. However, I do ask God for signs that he is in heaven, and I do get them.

I pray and I ask Jesus for things, and then they happen. I don't tell anybody about these prayers, so nobody can be setting them up at all.

I knew that Dr. Merchant was going to comment on a picture of my dad that I put on Facebook. He did that. I was right - I got the comment notification the day after I had posted the picture.

I prayed that I would "see" Atlas. (Atlas was my mom's dog when she lived with her parents.) Briana didn't know this, and the other morning she brought a picture of Atlas into the area where we were resting.

I prayed that I'd see money on the ground after remembering a speaker at an event talk about how God sent him dimes when he was in a complete low. We went to Cold Stone Creamery the other night because Briana wanted some ice cream from there. When we left, the change was very shiny on the parking lot pavement. I didn't pick it up (neither did I in the idea of where I prayed for it), but my mom did. It was also EXTREMELY shiny . . . unlike I have ever seen from coins. I know, it could still be all the lights from the buildings and maybe some headlights or tail lights, but even so, it was very shiny - shinier than usual.

My counselor at McNeese said that perhaps we could think of some way to honor him at the beginning of the semester. Sometimes I wonder if the chemistry staff and the families should have a way of honoring those that have passed. I know quite a few have died suddenly in that department - there was Paul Abel, Chris, and my dad. I can think of those right off the top of my head. They were all still teaching and all very sudden.

She talked about perhaps being able to do one of the balloon releases like my mom, Briana, and I did on father's day for my dad . . . we got balloons (orange because that we his favorite color, though I bet if McNeese did this it would be yellow/gold and blue, the school colors) and then had enough ribbon on them that we could attach a note and "send it to heaven."

Or, perhaps, there would be something different . . . I do not know.
I also know that at some point, I am just going to want to go to Kirkman and be outside the building and then probably later where my dad's office was located and just cry and remember him. Some of my favorite times with him were when we just went up to McNeese and did simple things like work on my school projects or I helped wash the test tubes, beakers, and flasks.

I also loved being able to bring my dog up there. I doubt I could bring him in the building by now since I only brough him in when class was not in because he is so big. However, I know that I can bring him on campus. Marbles loved playing between the tables/shelves in my dad's lab because it was like a big fun maze where he could hide and come when called.
So, yeah, everything is still very hard . . . very, very hard.

x-posted to kagomeshuko, missing_dad, and imissmydad

Also, e-mailed and posted to facebook.

Battery Low

When Dad was alive, I talked to him all the time... several times a day was the norm. I called him for advice, to vent, when something good happened, when something bad happened, when something funny or stupid happened... when I was happy, when I was sad, when I was bored, when I was sick. I realized today that, aside from the normal grief one feels when losing a loved one, I also feel very run down. Whenever I needed a 'pick-me-up', Dad was there. Sometimes (like today) when things are ok and nothing is really wrong but I just feel blah and tired and whatever, I would call him and it would be like a recharge for my battery. I guess that's the effect of unconditional love. It's not as if we never argued or got on each others' nerves (who doesn't when they're close) but sometimes a girl just needs her Dad.

I know he is still here with me, but I miss the way things used to be. I know, who doesn't, right? There is something about being someone's little girl that is comforting, when being a responsible adult is exhausting and stressful.

stolen television

I woke up this morning, and it was quite difficult. I just had to cry.

I had a dream and my dad was in it. I know it was a dream, but it felt more real than some dreams do . . . that's really besides the point.

My mom was praying and I was praying that I'd have a sign that my dad was in heaven, so the dream was a very good thing, but it made it so hard.

In my dream, my dad was standing in a small part of a room with us. I guess it was kind of like our door way in the house we are still renting while moving to our new house. However, I wasn't really sure of the exact place where we were.

He no longer had the fake leg and the huge boot. He was himself . . . like a younger version . . . the dad I knew when I was small. He said that he could only stay for the day and then that he had to go back. It was that simple and all he did was stand and say that . . . it was obvious that we loved each other just from the way things were. None of those words needed to be said.

Later in the day, I was doing a crossword puzzle, and the word "Okapi" was the answer. That was one of my dad's favorite animals to say for "animal" in Mad Libs. He said that one quite often.

I miss him so much at times. I wished he was around today when I got scared because somebody had come into our new house and stolen the television that we had there. (Thank God that it was the ONLY thing that was stolen and for nice people as a guy was able to get a bar to make it so the window was not able to be opened from the outside again!)

x posted

kagomeshuko imissmydad missing_dad