The post I've been avoiding....

I'm sorry I've been away, but most of you who know me in real life know the cause of my absence. It's been very difficult to post about this, but I have to, because moving forward my life will never be the same again. Two weeks ago, I was getting the girls ready for a trip to the zoo. I heard my husband shouting downstairs for me, which was odd because he had left for work two hours before. The moment I saw him, I knew something was terribly wrong. He was pale, well, paler than usual, which is really hard to pull off for someone of Irish descent. Nevertheless, he told me something I had been expecting, but not this way. He said they thought my dad was dead. My dad had a really close call last year, and his health was always a concern for me. The thing was, it wasn't his health. There was a fire. The absolute most horrible way to go. Immediantly I felt like the world was collapsing beneath me, and it's taken quite a while to feel stable again. As time went on, we learned more facts, or theories since nothing has been released yet. The fire was seemingly started by another tenent of the building, in response to an argument she was having with the owner and her grandson, over something obsecenly stupid. The owner claims the woman had been drinking. The fire was HUGE. Nothing is left. The person accused of starting the fire, Khirsty, however, was heard yelling for my dad, banging on his door and trying to awaken him to get hime out. Then there was her screaming, and nothing else. The autopsy had come back that both died due to inhailation of smoke and accelerants. That is all I know of what happened. Exactly how the fire was started, what was used, and if there are any other things contributing to the fire is unknown. The worst part is that my father was burned beyond all reconition, and we had to have dental records pulled to id his body. There was about 4 days where we were just hoping that he had left and someone else was sleeping in his bed. It was a desperate thought, and one we knew wasn't true, but with something this horrific, you try to grasp something. My dad did something for me before I found out he died that I will cherish for the rest of my life. The fire was Thursday morning at 12:30am local time. Thursday night, obivious to what had occured that morning, I was going to bed. Usually we take the dog out right before bed, and she would go straight up to her crate and crawl in. Not this night. She refused, started barking, and flipped her crate. So I let her out, and she just sat right next to my side of the bed. James and I started talking about how dogs can sense things, so we pondered the chances of an earthquake occuring. Then I said, "I hope I'm not about to die, or someone we know is going to die, dogs usually can tell." She finally fell asleep, and so did James, but I could not. Then, I felt three distinct kisses on my cheek. I said "thank you" outloud, assuming it was a spirt guide or something like that. The next morning is when I found out he had died. I truely believe it was my dad telling me he was okay, and goodbye before I knew, so there was no way I would question it or think I was imagining things. He was someone really amazing. From my very early childhood, he taught me to question things, to think about the big picture, to accept things beyond ordinary sight. He was a man who lived many lives in one, a hippie to a devout christian to a open minded lover of god and the universe; an explorer and daredevil to a disabled retiree; a married man living in the rural midwest to a single man living in the metropolis of Hawaii. Through all things though, he was funny. Puns and jokes were always coming from his direction, and through the memorial and the skattering of his ashes, I tried to use humor as a way of connecting with him and keeping his memory alive. He loved this blog, and checked it every day as a way of keeping up with his granddaughters. Explaining to them why Grandpa Larry is not going to be with them any longer has been difficult. Sophia and Maia are both at an age where they realize that something terrible has happened, and that their momma is sad. It's been a beautiful thing to know they are there, that they need me, and that they are helping to heal me. Sophia put a cup on my stomach a few days after dad's passing, and I asked her what she was doing. Her reply? "I'm draining away all your tears momma." Of course, a few hours earlier I had started to cry, and she said "Momma, can't you keep it in, for us?" They both understand that while Grandpa is dead, his soul is still alive, he can still see us, and visit us, and that we just can't see him. What is sad about death is not us being sad for the passed, but being sad for ourselves, because we are without those we love. I have felt my dad a few times since he has died, and know he is okay, but nothing will be the same. Since this terrible tragedy, I have been delighted to find out how truely wonderful my friends and family are. Their support has been unwaivering and overwhelming. I was able to go to Hawaii for 6 days to set his affairs in order and skatter his ashes without a worry, knowing my husband and friends had my girls in perfect care. The kindness from everyone he worked with and knew in Hawaii was equally beautiful. I am going to take the beauty of this tragedy, the lessons and demonstrations that out of tragedy can come love, strength, grace, and beauty. That while he is gone, without a doubt he said goodbye and is in a better place, and that his love, sense of wonder, and humor will live on in myself and my girls. So in that note, one last post for my dad:

A Maia original: Why did the cow cross the road? Because the chicken was to tired too!