(TRULY JUDE UPDATE: BLOG READ AROUND THE WORLD
I was so amazed to see that this blog has been read by people all over the world. Readers are from Ireland, New Zealand, Greece, China, Columbia, France, Canada and Switzerland. )
We may live in different countries, we may speak different languages, but the language of grief is understood by all humans.
Julie Kelley/Truly Jude Creator
ORIGINAL BLOG POST – The Soulfully Complicated Process of Grief
I just dropped my little guy off at school and the leprechauns had left a mess for the kids! Toilet paper hung around the room. Delight hung in the air – with giggles and gossip about what happened!
My Dad Would Have Howled With Delight
I laughed as I walked to the car. If there was one person who would get the most delight out of this scene it would be my Dad. My big, Irish, happy-go-lucky Dad. He would have howled with laughter because big, Irish guys, with great personalities, howl when they laugh.
Then I cried. Broke down and bawled my eyes out. Then, I heard this whisper.
“I’m howling from heaven.”
As I stood in my driveway, intentionally closing my eyes and feeling the sunshine washing over my mind and body, I knew he was close by.
My Dad lost his Mom in his early 20’s. He had married the love of his life and they had just had their first baby.
Whenever my Grandma Kelley came up, he’d start to talk and then ~ pause ~ knowing he was about to lose his composure. He might put his hand up toward his mouth, take a breath and then, he would bite his upper lip with his lower teeth. The choking tears would come as he spoke of his Mom.
I know that feeling well now. I do the same thing when the wave of grief hits, as it does, in the most unexpected places.
Waves of Grief and the Unexpected Gifts
This week the grief has come at one of the most joyful moments ~ a giggling group of kids loving a teacher’s delightful ways~ and in a more mundane moment that did not feel mundane to me at all.
I saw a man with a Cabot hat on and asked if he worked for the world renowned cheese company in Vermont. He said yes. I mentioned my Dad working there too. It turns out my Dad was his supervisor on the night shift, but it wasn’t until the next moment that the “gift of grief” came.
I was walking away as he walked down the stairs behind me. He paused, and said, “When my Dad died, your Dad came to my father’s funeral.”
I paused and said, “That sounds like my Dad.”
Getting a Kick Out of Life
My Dad felt loss as powerfully as anyone I’ve ever know and he also celebrated life to the fullest ~ his life, your life and the lives of the people that he had lost.
I can hear him howling from heaven right now – getting such a kick out of the joy that’s filling his grandson’s classroom because of the “Luck of the Irish” and all that means to people who celebrate St. Patty’s Day!
This Irish American Princess (or IAP as he called me!) will never stop feeling the loss of my big, happy-go-lucky Irish Dad.
Truly,
Julie
I loved my Dad so, my daughter had your mom as a teacher so I’ve always felt connected. I remember Susie Quatrini telling me you will feel it at weird times, driving up 91 from Barnet etc…. didn’t get it at first but still happens. I feel your pain and so happy you are back in Vt.
Thank you Jan! Your message means so much to me. Having a Dad you adore is such an amazing gift. Sue knew, but you’re right, until you really experience it, you don’t quite understand. Take care and thank you again for sharing this!
Random moments of emotion is how I named it until I read the Celtic term “thin spaces.” Our world and their time touch and you are so right, Julie. It is a gift and a grace to remember how much we loved and were loved…and are loved through those thin spaces.
This is so beautiful! I will forever think of these moments as thin spaces, which means we’re so close we can almost touch. My heart is full having you share this here. Thank you!
Hi Julie, I loved the memories of your Dad. We miss him too! My Mom passed away 13 years ago and it seems like yesterday. There are time when something happens with my kids, and I think I have to tell Mom. Then I remember that she’s not here. It’s like an arrow in my heart! It never goes away! She was an awesome mother and grandmother and I hope I do her proud! I hope she is watching from somewhere! Love you! Aunt Linda
Love you to Aunt Linda! She is watching and knowing and so proud! It’s such a universal feeling that we all experience … no matter our age or how much time has passed. Maybe that is one of the signs of truly being loved deeply and loving deeply. The feeling never goes away and lucky us for that.
Your dad was the best boss ever – what a great sense of humor (and patience) he had. Fond memories of working at Fairbanks.
Thank you Mrs. Wollrath! He was just the same at home – good for a laugh and the most patient, loving Dad! I’ve been having a tough week missing him and this lifts my spirits thinking of all the blessings. I hope you’re enjoying your new home!