Facebook Stalking?
I admit it: I've been stalking someone in Facebook. But it's not what you think. It's totally harmless. I'm genuinely interested in this person's life because he/she was once a big part of mine. Subject's FB page led me to subject's blog where I read subject's father died suddenly of a massive heart attack in March 2007. It was heartbreaking to read subject's entry about subject's dad and how sad subject was to lose him so quickly with no warning.
I remember subject's dad. I met him several times. Subject was a lot like dad--very gentle, kind, gracious. They looked alike, too. Subject's dad and mom divorced when subject was young and both re-married. Of course, it made me think of my own father. I do take him being alive for granted. One day he will die, most likely before me, and I will grieve and wish I could have told him. . . what? What do I wish to tell my father? He knows I love him. Is there anything he needs to know from me?
In my opinion, the best thing you can tell people you love is that you remember the role they played in your life at certain moments. We are not aware of how we touch people unless they tell us. It is incredibly moving to be told you helped shape someone's life or helped them heal. Just helped. After all, isn't that what we were meant to do? Help each other through this world?
I would tell my father my best memory of him was when my father-in-law was dying in the hospital. I had caused a major scene (for good reason, I believe to this day) in his ICU room and stormed out of the room and hospital to breathe, calm down. Mom is the first person I call when exasperated, angry, sad, happy, so I called home. Dad answered. Shit. I NEVER talk to him about serious stuff. He asked me what was wrong, and I told him between sobs what had happened. I waited for him to chastise me, tell me I was being a baby, I was selfish. Instead, he told me I was right in what I did. All families are different and have different ways of dealing with grief. It didn't make sense to him what they did, but that was their way, and I had a right to disagree and not be a part of it. He was on my side. He validated my feelings and soothed me. I didn't need Mom. I needed Dad's logic and understanding. That's my most poignant memory of Dad. It may not seem like much, but to me, it's HUGE.
Dad and I have never been super tight, but I do love him. I know subject misses dad dearly. I wish subject knew his/her blog entry moved me to type my own about my dad. I wish I could tell subject how deeply sorry I am for his/her loss.
I remember subject's dad. I met him several times. Subject was a lot like dad--very gentle, kind, gracious. They looked alike, too. Subject's dad and mom divorced when subject was young and both re-married. Of course, it made me think of my own father. I do take him being alive for granted. One day he will die, most likely before me, and I will grieve and wish I could have told him. . . what? What do I wish to tell my father? He knows I love him. Is there anything he needs to know from me?
In my opinion, the best thing you can tell people you love is that you remember the role they played in your life at certain moments. We are not aware of how we touch people unless they tell us. It is incredibly moving to be told you helped shape someone's life or helped them heal. Just helped. After all, isn't that what we were meant to do? Help each other through this world?
I would tell my father my best memory of him was when my father-in-law was dying in the hospital. I had caused a major scene (for good reason, I believe to this day) in his ICU room and stormed out of the room and hospital to breathe, calm down. Mom is the first person I call when exasperated, angry, sad, happy, so I called home. Dad answered. Shit. I NEVER talk to him about serious stuff. He asked me what was wrong, and I told him between sobs what had happened. I waited for him to chastise me, tell me I was being a baby, I was selfish. Instead, he told me I was right in what I did. All families are different and have different ways of dealing with grief. It didn't make sense to him what they did, but that was their way, and I had a right to disagree and not be a part of it. He was on my side. He validated my feelings and soothed me. I didn't need Mom. I needed Dad's logic and understanding. That's my most poignant memory of Dad. It may not seem like much, but to me, it's HUGE.
Dad and I have never been super tight, but I do love him. I know subject misses dad dearly. I wish subject knew his/her blog entry moved me to type my own about my dad. I wish I could tell subject how deeply sorry I am for his/her loss.
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