Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Remembering LD

I should be sleeping... but occasionally I still get the writing bug and I can't rest until I've put my words down on "paper." I miss paper. The keyboard is faster, but I miss paper - the ache in my hand, the scratch of the pen, the pause doodle, the finality that ink represents. Although I do write in my journal still, it's only once every few months now. I am trying this blog thing again... and I have to thank my brother-in-law's family for this second wind.


Today I attended the funeral for my brother-in-law's father. I came home and told my husband, "I know this sounds really strange, but that was the best funeral I've ever been to." I am not good at funerals. I feel like I've been to too many of them in my 30 years - each one at a different stage of my life. I did not know L D like I wish I had. I moved back to North Carolina after the initial surgery that changed his life forever, and circumstances always prevented me from spending enough time around him. I knew what he meant to my sister, and I knew the magic kindness of his wife and daughter.

I feel like I know him a little better after today. I know it may seem odd to think of a funeral in terms of "the best" anything - but I walked away from it not only with the natural reminder of how precious life is, but with a serious desire to be a better person. It's not that I think I'm a bad person, but I'm not "who I want to be" yet. L D's brother explained that while most of us "are who we are, but we're not who we want to be," L D was who he was, but he was who he wanted to be as well. This seemingly simple comment has forever changed the way I will measure my life going forward.

L D was described as a person who truly "believed in us before we believed in ourselves." I can't think of a higher compliment than that. I have spent many years not knowing how to believe in myself. I feel that at 30 years of age, I am finally starting to believe in myself - it is an extremely hard thing to do when people haven't always believed in you. I believe in myself a little more now after today.

The joy that shines through L D's family is a joy that I have never seen in any other family I've ever known. I love that he was his daughter's friend. I love that he treated his family as his best friends, and his best friends as his family, because "that's what they are."

I walked away from the service today feeling more hopeful about life than I have felt in a long time. I feel like I am always going through something - aren't we all?  But I also feel that I always let it consume me and shape who I am. L D went through so much in the last few years of his life, but it was amazing that he did not let it define who he was. We can all learn from that, can't we? I don't want to let the circumstances in my life that cause me pain to define who I am anymore. I want to smile more, and complain less. I want to be more thankful for the people in my life, even when they disappoint me. I want to be more kind. I want to trust people more.

Thank you, L D, for inspiring me to be the person I want to be today. Thank you for the amazing joy that you generated in my sister, and in everyone around you. Thank you for helping me to keep believing in myself and reminding me how important it is to believe in others. I did not spend as much time with you as I would've liked, but I am so grateful for our time together today. Thank you for making such a difference, and for inspiring others to do the same.

May peace follow you and may your spirit soar and surround those who loved you most.