In Joy and Sorrow

Twelve years ago today, my father had a major hemorrhagic stroke, which changed not only his life, but the lives of everyone in our family.

I had argued with my father the previous day. He was a good man, but his obsessive nature could have driven a saint mad, and at the time, my bipolar disorder still had not been properly diagnosed. He didn't know when enough was enough, and my irritability got the better of me.

I yelled at him. I felt bad about it,  but it wasn't the first time, and I was pretty sure it would not be the last. This was our pattern.

That night, I dreamed that I was seated on the floor. My father was lying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, not speaking. His head rested in my lap. I said "Dad, I'm sorry. Please be OK."

At the time, my mother and I worked at the same  long term care facility. It was lunch time. I was in the dining room at the feeder table. My mother came in and frantically pulled me out into the hall.

 I assumed that a resident was crashing and she needed my help. 

"We have go," she ordered. "Your father has had a stroke."

I very helpfully fainted. In honesty, the shock from realizing that I had a precognitive dream about my father's stroke triggered the fainting episode. I have had numerous precognitive dreams, almost always foretelling upsetting events. The aftershock from this one overwhelmed me.

My father passed away on November 28 2010. Were he still alive, he would have been 80 years old this May 31.

On May 31, 2004, my father came to visit my son and me. We grilled chicken sausages. He was looking forward to full retirement. He enjoyed his modest birthday gift from my son and me.

We didn't know that a mere four days later, it would feel as if we had been hit by a bomb. Our lives were changed forever. This was the sort of thing that happened to other families and you felt sorry for them. How could it be happening to our family?

Fast forward to today. I am on a six night work stretch, so I am staying with my son. I had to drive to the credit union near my home to get a new debit card. They'd sent out new ones, but I had not received one and was without a functional debit card.

After that was done, I went to the grocery store to get milk and pick up some things from the markdown case. 

On my way back to my son's place, I decided to get takeout from Panda Express. When I came in and told my 26 year old son that I had gotten Panda Express, he was as excited as a kid, and I can't describe how happy it made me to hear him say:

"Awesome! Thank you so much!"

Sometimes it's the small things that bring the greatest joy and offset the sorrow.

CIE