Seven Lessons Reiterated in Seven Days

Re-blogging this in honor of my dad’s birthday, which is today. He’d be thrilled to know he was the subject of something so public.

On July 18, 2015, we laid my daddy’s physical body to rest. He had battled cancer for the previous three years. His death became more than imminent seven days prior. As a result, I was more involved with him and my family in ways that I hadn’t been in the past. Consequently, this list developed.

  1. Everyone has his or her own story about you. Each narrative offers the truth based on a different perspective.

My daddy was great for me until the age of 16. For the next 23 years, he and I didn’t have a close relationship. However, the multitude of phone conversations from his other grandkids implied that he was a wonderful father figure to his stepchildren and their children. For 21 years, he nurtured them and built relationships. Neither of these stories is “wrong.” Each one is just different.

  1. Accept someone’s apology before they apologize.

Three years ago, my daddy sat me down and apologized for not doing something simple for over 20 years: calling and making time for me. In my mind, I never thought he’d come to an understanding about our relationship, so I had created and accepted a mental apology from him years ago (something I saw Iyanla do). By the time we sat down, I was able to actually listen to him with my whole heart, instead of offering “my side” of things.

  1. If someone has decided to make an effort, then those current actions should matter.

For a large part of my life, my father always told me and everyone else he knew that he loved me, but his actions never matched. According to him, the “threat of mortality” made him call, text and Skype me as much as possible over the course of his final three years. Communication increased for that short time and these are the actions by which I choose to remember him.

  1. When you get to the end of your life, you don’t get to add more time.

I kept overhearing my stepmother describe how daddy just wanted a little more time. I imagine that no matter what we do in life, if we’re close to death, we’re going to want to barter for more time. But the reality is that none of us can. There is no 25th hour. The best we can do is plan for tomorrow, but live for today.

  1. You don’t have the right to tell someone how to live his or her life and you certainly don’t have the right to dictate how someone dies.

While in the hospital, my dad decided to stop eating. My stepmother honored his wishes by not offering an IV. Ultimately, this accelerated the rate of his cancer, and ultimately, his death. There were many who felt this an inconvenience and wanted her to do otherwise. We don’t have the right to suggest, tell or judge one’s life or death choices. Ever.

  1. There’s a difference between not being able to do something and not wanting to do something. Be honest about which you’re professing.

The past few days, I’ve observed quite a few people state what they can’t do. The reality is many of us should change the word “can’t” to “I don’t want to.” A lot of times it’s inaccurate to say “I can’t do fill-in-the-blank,” when most of the time, my friends, we can do whatever we set our minds to.

  1. Be compassionate. Be considerate.

Many people I associate with have the ability to see themselves in others. These people felt empathy at this time and attempted to understand what losing two parents might feel like. I’m grateful for them and how they communicated with me over the past seven days. They were considerate, and as a result made my life a little easier. In every situation, be compassionate; be considerate. It goes a long way.


33 thoughts on “Seven Lessons Reiterated in Seven Days

  1. This is a very wise post, KE. I hear you on a lot of this stuff. Wish I would have had the wisdom myself, 20 years ago, when my own dad died.
    Thank you so much for following my blog, and take care.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. #2 is a hard one, but one I will try to remember. It’s hard not to sorta accept an apology or almost accept it, but you want to list the grievances one last time. Your approach is a mature productive one.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I agree Johanna. In fact, that’s my measurement for if someone is ready to accept my apology. If I apologize and the person is like, but remember when you…then I’m like oh okay, you ain’t ready lol

      Liked by 1 person

  3. I am sorry for the loss of your father. Last September I lost my Grandmother so I know what you are going through somewhat. We have our family for so long in this life and when they leave a part of us goes with them. Have peace and grace during this time my fellow blogger.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Hi Kathy, I’ve enjoyed following your story (enjoy might not be the right word, but I hope you know what I mean). Lesson 1 in particular resonates with me- the recognition of other people’s truths, even if different to your own goes a long way in influencing words and actions and resulting emotions. It has taken me many years to realise that not everyone sees the world as I do, as silly as that may sound- we all have filters based on what we know and what we’ve experienced.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. No, I totally understand Mek! And I have to RE-REiterate that it’s not easy. Even today, at the funeral, listening to my stepsisters go on and on about how great of a “dad” he was to them was rough girl. But I had to keep telling myself, step away from that ego lol

      Liked by 4 people

      1. It must have been a really tough day for you, but no doubt made easier by the improved relationship you had with you dad before he passed away. Well done on keeping that ego aside 🙂

        Liked by 2 people

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