We buried my dad’s ashes a week ago Saturday. Although he passed a year and a half ago, he had given his body as a donation for scientific study, so his ashes hadn’t been returned to my mom till earlier this year.

It was a beautiful day – sunny and brisk. It seemed a really fitting time of the year for the burial, with the Mexican Day of the Dead a few weeks before, and the “going to earth” quality of this time of year. Family members gathered to honor my dad and to remember who we all truly are as sojourners in the bigger picture of Life.

The next day as my immediate family had gathered for what has become a tradition of sharing an Indian buffet meal, my dad’s sister and her husband happened to be there also! As we chatted, my aunt shared with my now-grown nephew, Andrew, a really clear memory she had of my dad tossing him into the air when he was a baby, and both of them laughing so hard! Andrew’s eyes welled up, as did mine…

It’s bittersweet to hold the paradox of wonderful memories with the feelings of loss.

For me this has been a time of coming to terms with my sense of estrangement, of not being really connected with my dad. I kept myself distant because of fear of his disapproval, and tried to avoid any risk of eliciting that. I didn’t want to have conversations about areas of difference, especially on religious topics, which was of huge importance to him.

I suspect I was still taking on his world view of right and wrong (and feeling somehow “wrong”), rather than being sure enough in who I was and be able to stay connected, whether we shared the same world view or not.

Even now it’s hard for me to move beyond the lingering feeling of judgment that I didn’t measure up to his expectations (and he’s not even here to do the judging!)

I assumed he’d reject me, and, when I didn’t allow space for a connection, I for sure created that separation all on my own, rather than trusting myself enough to know I’d be okay no matter his response.

There was one time not long before he died that I did share something difficult with him, and he really surprised me with his understanding and continuing love. It made me realize how mistaken I may have been all along.

So… what am I to do with that?!  Now that there is no way of repairing that disconnection? And if I don’t want to stay stuck in regret and pain?

I can’t undo the past, but I can make amends to myself for this disconnect going forward…

• I can choose love over fear
• I can commit to notice when I am acting out of fear, and really take a deep look at what’s true and what’s an illusion
• I can commit to remembering that everyone, including me, is always doing the best they can in each moment
• I can return to Love and Trust over and over and over and over again

I am grateful for all the gifts my dad gave me… an adventuresome spirit, love of the outdoors, a love of India, deep caring about others, a desire to be a part of bringing about healing, a quiet persistence to be the best we can in each new moment. I am grateful for his commitment to act on what he believed in. I am grateful for his love and care.

Thank you, Daddy…  I love you.