We Did Everything We Could

I can't begin to tell you the number of times I've heard, "We did everything we could" on some sort of hospital drama or soap opera.

Here's two things about that phrase. First of all, actual doctors actually do use it. Second of all, when there's an actual doctor sitting across a table from you in a hospital waiting room, fighting back the tears as he delivers the line, referring to your father, it changes your life forever.

Wednesday night, at a little past 8 o'clock in the evening, my dad passed away. He was not only a man with incredible integrity and unwavering faith, but he also loved me unconditionally for 43 years, 6 months, 14 days, and some odd hours, and that is the loss that I am mourning.

The one thing I know for sure is that he is in a better place, surrounded by people he loves, and that he is at peace. I know this because every time someone died this is what he told me happened. I know this because every time he told me, he did so with sincerity and conviction. And mostly I know this because this is what he believed and I have always believed in my father.

Little Loose Ends

I was just enjoying one of my favorite blogs and am envying how she has entries at least daily. I haven't really had much to say as of late, thus my quiet blog.

A few little things have come up recently that are worth mentioning. I guess you could categorize them as things that make you go hmmmmmm.

A couple of weeks ago I was pulled aside by my neighbor whose daughter plays with my daughter. Apparently, whilst playing in our basement a few days earlier, my daughter said something that hurt the feelings of her daughter and she came home crying. This would explain the hesitation when my daughter was asking her to play.

When I talked to my daughter about it that evening, she said something that I thought was quite insightful. She asked me why boys can get in fights and still be friends? This is something she observed during the countless hours of playing with her brother and all the boys in the neighborhood. What could I say? They just do. Hmmmmmm.

I immediately went into psychologist mode and researched books at the library that would help my daughter and I navigate what I imagine is just the beginning of many, many, many years of this sort of...for lack of a better term...crap!

While browsing through one book, there was a narrative of a study by the author. She would go into a classroom of sixth graders and ask them to imagine that they had been born the opposite sex. Then, they had to quietly make a list the things they thought would be different about being the opposite sex. What was interesting was that all the girls' comments about being a boy were positive with a sense of longing (my dad would spend more time with me, I'd have my own room, I wouldn't care how I looked), while all the boys' comments about being a girl were negative (I wouldn't play baseball for fear of breaking a nail, I'd have to spend lots of time in the bathroom on my hair, I'd have to help cook, I'd worry about getting pregnant.) Hmmmmmm.

Finally, we've had a breakthrough with my son who is not a huge fan of school. Apparently all it takes to peak his interest is to get a cute, young, energetic teacher who sets aside Fridays as the day she eats lunch with them in the cafeteria and goes outside to play during recess. Our walks home this week have been enlightening. He talks all about her and when I asked him today how school was he said, "Awesome!" Hmmmmmm.