tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12826739.post1247714793891084192..comments2023-08-06T18:55:54.527+03:00Comments on 13Months: February for 14 Yearsrdmeekerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16398062712830756629noreply@blogger.comBlogger8125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12826739.post-55906868589359158972008-02-19T08:29:00.000+03:002008-02-19T08:29:00.000+03:00I'm only responding to let you know I'm here for y...I'm only responding to let you know I'm here for you (and Ang and the wee one). <BR/><BR/>I don't want to offer any stories or tell you that I understand. I'm just here. Listening.<BR/><BR/>Death hurts. 1993, 1998, 2006. No matter how many years go by, I miss them all. I think you know what I mean. And I hope I didn't offend or hurt you by saying so.Aimeehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15371122721416715477noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12826739.post-24823414455876406942008-02-19T04:36:00.000+03:002008-02-19T04:36:00.000+03:00I have no words other than we love you. NessI have no words other than we love you. <BR/><BR/>NessAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12826739.post-24024774841665625062008-02-19T02:09:00.000+03:002008-02-19T02:09:00.000+03:00I really miss you.I wish I could be there.You aren...I really miss you.<BR/>I wish I could be there.<BR/>You aren't alone!<BR/>I love youAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12826739.post-44125329776196983182008-02-18T23:24:00.000+03:002008-02-18T23:24:00.000+03:00I am thinking of you. I love and miss you!I am thinking of you. I love and miss you!Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12826739.post-44212619059460767012008-02-18T17:00:00.000+03:002008-02-18T17:00:00.000+03:00close your eyes, feel my arms enfolding you and I'...close your eyes, feel my arms enfolding you and I'm holding you tight. I love you!Tammyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14562571332729797431noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12826739.post-1382081757973558052008-02-17T22:21:00.000+03:002008-02-17T22:21:00.000+03:00Thanks for the comment, Cristi.Jason, for the reco...Thanks for the comment, Cristi.<BR/><BR/>Jason, for the record, I consider you a <I>professional</I> theologian, so no offense. <BR/><BR/>Seriously, though, Thank you for reminding me that death is evil. Sometimes, I forget that very simple fact and instead consider it a natural and normal part of life. <BR/><BR/>Thanks for what you said.rdmeekerhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16398062712830756629noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12826739.post-67063930764921351632008-02-17T08:47:00.000+03:002008-02-17T08:47:00.000+03:00Following my parents divorce (I was 12) my mother ...Following my parents divorce (I was 12) my mother met a man named Michael, who she seemed to genuinely love, and together they quickly planned to marry. While the divorce had been somewhat of an emotional blow to me, the truth is my mother's fiancé was everything my father wasn't: affectionate, determined, goal-oriented, and successful. He was meeting my emotional needs in a powerful way, and my mother seemed happy for the first time. I remember consciously deciding (and there's no way for me to overstate the significance of this) that I would consider him to be my father, thereby rejecting my own father, and I looked forward to a better future with him. <BR/><BR/>Then, just a few months before the wedding, at the age of 34, Michael died of a heart attack. This emotionally devastated my mother and me, and immediately threw us into instability. For the next year or so we lived a difficult and almost transient life, moving from house to house, taking on roommates, and transferring schools. <BR/><BR/>We eventually landed on our feet. And although this period marks one of the most difficult times for me, it was the most strategically important. For the brief period that Michael was part of our lives I felt empowered for the first time (my own father was never able to instill this). He exuded a posture of discipline and determination, and furthermore, seemed genuinely impressed with me and convinced that I could accomplish anything I wanted. <BR/><BR/>I believed him. I developed a sense of destiny about my own success. With him, I thought I could do anything. This conviction continued in an amplified way for a brief period after Michael's death (a kind of personal epitaph to his memory), but soon subsided. <BR/><BR/>So...while there are certainly some positive outcomes from this part of my life, ultimately I've concluded that my needs could have been better met if Michael had not died. While I think I'm a better person for having known Michael, I honestly don't think I'm a better person for having been through his loss. Whatever benefits I have gained from knowing him for a brief time, and suffering his death, are overshadowed by the benefits I would have gained by having Michael as a consistent, long-term fathering presence. <BR/><BR/>So I guess what I'm saying is, I agree with you.<BR/><BR/>I'm convinced that while God may be able to weave together the elements of this tragedy in my life to work out some kind of residual good (an idea I affirm), the fact remains that death itself is evil - even when it represents the most compassionate remaining option (relatively speaking), and even when it represents, as it once and for all did, the means of the greatest good of all. <BR/><BR/>Death is evil. No amount of well-intentioned platitudes can ever make it otherwise.<BR/><BR/>Sorry if I offended you.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12826739.post-57635724642360029962008-02-17T08:36:00.000+03:002008-02-17T08:36:00.000+03:00i did read it, and i am crying. hopefully we are ...i did read it, and i am crying. hopefully we are crying together.Yes, that Cristihttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06271289680829006260noreply@blogger.com