I don’t know how I will do it.
But, I KNOW I will DO it.
I will do it because that was “the deal” – the promise
Bob asked of me … and the vow I made in agreement to that promise.
I received three phone calls in the past 24 hours
(Bob’s Aunt, my niece/daughter, and our granddaughter), asking me how I
am doing.
I’m doing.
I’ll be doing much better when my leg is stronger
and I can get out of the house.
I read encouragements on FB, from friends: I am
thankful I have such loving, empathetic, and compassionate friends.
G: I remember Bob, I grew up with him. I was closer to Ralph in
age. I believe Bob had no say in the matter about the timing of his end of days
but I know he would want you to heal, that would be the Bob I remember.
I am healing.
I am doing better this year than I was 12 months
ago …24 months ago.
Elohei is walking with me through this journey.
So are my friends.
I am blessed; I could not have come
this far without any of them – they are all
important, and necessary in their own way.
I read declarations of love on our granddaughter’s
FB Pages.
KRISA: My mind swirls like the storm
Thoughts
of him drifting around
Winds
blow softly carrying his voice
Different
shades of blue mixing
Reminding
me of his eyes
Yet
no shade of blue reminds me more
Than
the eyes reflected back in the mirror
Those
memories of him linger
As
a fresh wound only to scab over
Yet
to be seen as a reminder
That
yes it has happened
Hurting
you so deep
Though
healing slowly that it scars
To
always remind you
That
he was there
That
he is still there
Deep
within the scars
That
lie beneath the surface
Siting
on your heart and soul
Never
forgotten
Always
there
Forever
more
Today
as the snow falls softly on the ground, I am reminded that today marks the 2
year anniversary of the passing of my grandfather. A man I’ve always looked up
to. A man that meant so much to me that it’s hard to see the world without him.
So much so that I see him in every part of my life. To the shades of blue in
the sky, the blue of the ocean, even in my own eyes do I see his. The
whispering of the wind as soft has his voice, wrapping me in a warmth of
comfort. His laughter lingers even now in the back of my mind and even so when
I talk to my dad, who sounds so much like him. Though grandpa may be gone, he
will forever live in the hearts and minds of his loved ones.
I
miss him always.
Both kids, and all the grandkids have Bob’s
facial features: they all have his Asian eyes, and all the granddaughter’s have
his chin. Both our daughter, and our only grandson, have his cleft chin.
I am glad Bob continues to live on.
Bob as a teenager: I did not know Bob at this time – his middle sister sent me this picture; I am thankful to glimpse a part of Bob’s life before I was in it.
September 1967; Bob’s Senior Picture – Bell’s Photography Studio used Bob’s picture as the poster picture for the ‘ideal class picture’ on their PNW Photo Shoots.
1973 Christmas. Bob & Alex; this picture was taken at his parent’s house 3 months before I met Bob.
December 1981; after Bob died his 2nd death in September, and was healing at home. Stacey (6 yo), Alex (11 yo) & Bob (32).
2003 Family gathering at Merry's; Alex, Bob, and granddaughters Brianna (Alex’s daughter) & Alyna (Stacey’s daughter).
Stacey & Azariah. July 2014. Aza a few days old.
July 2014; Azariah – Bob’s mini-me: a carbon copy of Bob, in every way.
November 2020; Alex’s daughter, Krisalee – our first grandchild. She has Bob’s facial features, and her eyes are the same color as Bob’s – the only difference being, Bob’s eyes had mesmerizing gold flecks in the iris’ that pulsed and danced around his pupils.
ALYNA: At
8:05 this morning the world lost the kindest, the most loving soul. Rest in
peace Papa. I love you so much and you are missed.
I have had two dreams that I feel have been
messages to me, impressing upon me that I have got to get busy moving forward
without looking back. The first dream was January 23rd, this year …
(https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2020/01/disturbing-dream.html)
The second dream was a few days ago, and it
jolted me awake – it was that real.
For whatever
reason, I had been at some beach, sitting in a beach chair on a sandy stretch –
thinking Bob would have enjoyed the day, and view.
At some point I must have fallen asleep, because
I woke up with a start when the tide had come in … up to my chest. I rose up
out of the chair, but because I am petite, the water was still quite high as I stood.
I was trying not to panic. Water unnerves me under normal
circumstances – I do not like water; not even getting my toes wet in the
surf.
Water and spending time at the beach, was Bob’s
thing; not mine.
In this dream, I was having difficulty turning
around to slog to safer ground.
The ocean seemed endless and fearsome, stretching
out to the horizon before me … and the beach was quickly disappearing behind me,
as the surf rose and covered the sandy stretch.
I can swim – but not well. And certainly not in
an ocean surge.
Water looks deceptively soft and easy
to cut through; but in reality, is it heavy and
solid … and very hard to walk through when it is rising and settling.
I remember, in my dream, thinking that I knew I
had to get out of the rising waves, or I would never survive.
And that was when I woke up, and sat up in bed –
thankful I was in our bed, in familiar surroundings … with no water in sight.
I also knew the dream was a message.
January’s dream was impressing on me that I couldn’t
sit around waiting for Bob (the memory of Bob’s love) to rescue me.
I have to rescue me.
I have to climb out of the wreckage of my life.
I have to rely on the survival skills I’ve honed,
to rescue me.
This recent dream was impressing on me that I
need to find newer pastimes that reflect my personality, not so much Bob’s
I spent lot of 2020 revisiting places that meant something
to Bob – or that were tied to the past where Bob and I spent time together.
Those aren’t necessarily bad things … but they
are hampering me from moving forward; and that is emotionally crippling.
Revisiting places and memories are okay – but setting
up camp there is not okay. Sitting and enjoying the view and the warmth those
memories invoke are comforting; but getting too comfortable can catch you off
guard when the waves creep in.
I need to stay focused.
I need to be alert in the moment.
I need to be balanced in time and presence.
Both dreams, though different in locale and
purpose … carried the same message.
In the first
dream, Bob was present – then he left: I didn’t see him again.
In the second dream, I was alone – with memories of
Bob.
Bob isn’t here; Bob isn’t coming back.
Bob has been gone in every way possible for 24 months.
Today, December 14th, is the 2 year mark.
Memories is not a healthy place to live.
It’s time to turn the page and start writing a
new life story.
