Dear Reader,
When something joyous happens in my life, I wish I could picture my parents smiling and telling me how happy and proud they are. Since I never heard those words when they were living, it's been impossible for me to imagine hearing them now that they're gone. But the other day, for some reason in the midst of day dreaming, I pictured my parents in heaven, and the story I told myself changed the way I feel about them now.
My mother found Ron, the love of her life, two years before she passed away. It was truly a boy-meets-girl love story. Both had been married once before, but shortly after they met, like two love-struck twenty-year-olds, they freely announced this was the first time they'd ever really been in love. And I believe they were right. Four years after my mother died, Ron passed away. Cancer had attacked his lungs, but I think he really died from a broken heart.
Such a strong love would never die, so it's easy to picture my mother with Ron in heaven. They're holding hands, tending to their flower gardens and going for long rides in the countryside, while Brandi their poodle hangs his head out the car window and barks at angels passing by.
My dad went through life thinking everyone was trying to take advantage of him. It was a sad, angry life. My father did more drinking than talking, so I never really got to know much about him until I listened to the eulogy my uncle gave at Dad's funeral. With tears in his eyes, Dad's brother recalled the day my father had to quit school in eighth grade, so he could help support the family. I never knew.
That story has helped me think about my father in a different way, and when I picture Dad in heaven, I see him getting the opportunity to do the things that a kid should get to do. Daddy's in heaven attending school, a full scholarship, doesn't even have to be on the football team to earn it. His desire to drink is gone--replaced with the love of learning. Walking to class with friends, reading books, learning about himself and finally getting the opportunity to experience the education he should have had long ago.
Picturing my parents in heaven, and telling myself a new story, helps me let go of the pain. I don't long for the way I wish things had been anymore. Instead I can share in their joy and happiness.
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Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.
Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com
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