8/12/2005
A week of forgetting
What a time it was leading up to the day of my fathers funeral.For the best part of 23 years, since my father married his third wife, his four children from his first marriages have not been apart of his daily existence. An only child, my fathers third wife was not willing to share Dad with his other children or his past. Understandably she wanted to create a new life with him that centered around her, which meant doing her best to create difficulties around contacting our father.
During the past three years Dad had been dealing with physical illness, so from a place of compassion and wanting him to have more to live for, his wife decided it could be a good idea to include us more. We didn't have many times together, but the times that we did spend together were great and I will always be thankful for that. It was during this time especially leading up to his eventual departure from the physical plane that solidarity of the family grew and earlier this year we had a family reunion for the first time. Sinclair my brother from Dads second marriage had never really met his three sisters from dad's third marriage. He made a special effort to fly up to Sydney from Melbourne to do so and be a part of a history making event. A lunch I held in my home. We took lots of pictures and tried our best to look like a happy family. It was a beautiful day with great food, great weather, nice conversation and dream come true for my little brother Peter, who had requested we all get together before Dad left the planet. Although for the younger members of the family it was a bit confusing as they tried to understand how all theses strangers are related.
But during the week leading up to my Fathers funeral, my stepmother reverted back to her old ways. Despite many offerings from Dad's adult children to be of assistance organizing the event, she went ahead and organized the day the way she wanted it. This meant the exclusion of any input at the service from my three bothers and myself. When we found this out my older brother Paul and I put in a phone call to our stepmother imploring her to let our younger brother speak at the service and honour our Father on behalf of us all. She told me that it was going to be a very elegant funeral and that my brother was not sophisticated enough (in her eyes) to make a speech. Well! You can imagine how this went down with me. I told her that he may seem like that to her but that he was the most caring, giving, loving, generous man I had ever known , he would give you the last shirt of his back if you needed it, and in my book that FAR out weighed her opinion of him, and that it was important to him to honour his Father at his funeral. She informed me, she didn't care
I am sure she made this decision from a place of disconnection to her source and her inner knowing. As the minister of the service reminded me, she was speaking and acting from her grief and fear. Unfortunately I let her disconnection inspire my disconnection, and allowed myself to be very upset about this. As it turned out I spoke to the Reverend canon Jobbins the night before the funeral wanting to know if he would allow my little brother to speak. He informed me even though he was in charge of what happens in the church and on the day he has to follow my stepmothers wishes as she was the person that he had spoken to regarding the arrangements.
We spoke about how it could be nice if everyone got along and finished the conversation satisfied that we held a similar vision for the world.
The miracle occurred on the morning of the funeral, my stepmother had a change of heart and called my little brother to say he could speak at the service. When I informed the Reverend minutes before the service began, he said to me. "It is wonderful the power of prayer". He had prayed that night that my brother could participate in the service and honour his Father as he had wanted.
He had not allowed himself to feel disconnected to his source, as I had, and his prayers were answered.
The disconnection hit me strongly and I came down with a cold which left me feeling like I had been hit by a truck. But the whole event has reminded me to stay focused on feeling good no matter what anyone else is doing, being or saying.
I had a week of forgetting, and it was just so great the universe put the blessed Reverend in my path to remind me to feel good and how feeling good lined up with the power of focused thought, or prayer, always achieves a good result.
My Brother Peter honoured us all with his magnificent speech. We all knew it wasn't going to be an easy thing for him to do, out of all of us he is the most sensitive to the wounds of others, and for the most part he kept it together pretty well. We all knew he would loose it when he mentioned the grandchildren, but it is that raw emotion that makes life so rich. As it turned out his speech was the highlight of the service as he enlightened us all about Dad's life and loves. We are all very proud of his courage and the enormous compassion he displayed by allowing others to be who ever they want to be without this effecting his loving opinion of them.
Today, the day after the funeral, I am still recovering from my place of disconnection but as I reread the Reminders from home messages on my web site, I have once again been reminded to focus on what feels good, and my body is enjoying a speedy recovery from the aches and pains I had last night and this morning. Although I may not live it in every moment, I am so grateful for the beautiful words of inspiration that funnel through me when I speak from a place of connection to my inner being.
It is just so great to remember and I am grateful to the many people who live to remind us.
Compassion is such a delicious feeling, and now I can say peace of mind reigns supreme again in my life.
Love is all and all is well.
KAren Swain...