Sunday, August 30, 2009

An Ocean of Tears

You can intellectuallize even spiritualize the passing of someone close to you but neither passes for mourning this person. Though I undestand that death comes to all and I believe we live eternally I didn't fully understand what mourning is about until now. I feel emotionally disconnected, like I've been unplugged from this world. My heart feels but my mind wants to move forward. My tears can fill an ocean.

Before my dad's passing I had not lost anyone close to me. I did not understand what grief and mourning is about. I had intellectualized the reality of my dad's death. I understood and accepted spiritually that I would not see him again in this world but my faith in an afterlife comforts me in the knowledge that I will see him again (John 16:22 You have sorrow now, but I will see you again; then you will rejoice, and no one can rob you of that joy).

So, that covers the intellectual and spiritual aspect of life. I thought I was doing fine. I didn't feel much the days leading up to the funeral and immediately after. Maybe I hadn't accepted his passing or, because I was doing his funeral service I had somehow disconnected myself by becoming a minister instead of a son. Anyway, I got through the service without breaking down entirely. I did pause a few times to collect myself which lead to moist eyes and many sniffs (lol).

I thought I had moved on somehow (how arrogant of me) and that mourning wasn't what it was cracked up to be. It wasn't until I got home and returned to "real life" that I began to feel the weight of his loss. It was like I had put on a coat of sorrow. The feeling of lonliness in a crowd and guilt for living and even finding joy became my constant companions.

Psalm 38:17 says "For I am read to fall, And my sorrow is continually before me." This passage perfectly describes how I am feeling. I feel as though I am being poured out. Like you twist a dish rag to drain the remaining water from it. My tears seem endless and if I allow it I will wail and cry endlessly. I don't understand this right now. If I believe that I will see my dad once more then why do I feel this way? Psalm 13:2 says "How long must I struggle with anguish in my soul, with sorrow in my heart every day? This is how I feel today. I am struggling with sorrow in my heart every day. We can't live in the past (what has been) or the future (what will be) we must live in the now. I can understand how sorrow can become dangerous (Psalm 15:13 A glad heart makes a happy face; a broken heart crushes the spirit). However, Ecclesiastes 7:3 says "Sorrow is better than laughter, for sadness has a refining influence on us." I find wisdom and truth in both but also an apparent paradox. Clearly, in life we must know when to allow the heart to lead and when to allow the mind to lead. Together they make up our soul but they can struggle one against the other.

Ecclesiastes 7:3 says "It is better to spend your time at funerals than at festivals. For you are going to die, and you should think about it while there is still time". Death is a humbling experience for us all. It is so easy to get lost in the sensuality of life and to become prideful in our thinking. So much so that we don't want to think about death even though it is a part of life. Who really wants to think about dying or attending a funeral? We seem convinced that the visible world is reality but maybe it is the spiritual world that is reality.How easy it is for us to believe a lie.

Here I go again, spiritualizing death and not allowing myself to feel the loss. I am not very good at just being. I tend to want to always do. I believe you can't take a short cut through mourning. Mourning is like a bill collector that continues to call. Those who try to avoid mourning will be visited continually by sadness of heart. Many times in the bible it says "And it came to pass". This time and sorrow has come to pass if I am willing to embrace the sadness of heart. If not, it will stay with me and become depression.

I believe that I am not only mourning my dad but also the closenes my family experienced the last three weeks. It was like we had been teleported to another galaxy, free from worldly thoughts and with a common purpose and harmony. We don't often experience this kind of common purpose and harmony in life. Maybe it was a tiny glimpse of heaven.

I said all this just to say I miss you dad...

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Dad's Memorial Service

Dad was born on October 28th 1929 in Baltimore, Md. 1929 marked the end of a period known in American history as the Roaring Twenties. His life was framed by the Wall Street Crash of 1929 which ushered in a worldwide Great Depression and his life ended with another worldwide depression. The Wall Street Crash of 1929 left an impression on my dad. As a result, he had a strong work ethic and was very frugal with his money. My dad was a “simple kind of man”

He was the oldest child of Walter and Catherine Krolczyk and the older brother of Elaine Krolczyk. He started life with simple beginnings. He was the child of 2nd generation polish immigrants. He lived near the Baltimore harbor. Dad only attended school untill the eleventh grade. However, he was self-taught with a fierce appetite for reading. He particularly liked reading about history. One would never have known that he was not a college graduate.

I imagine the advice he heard from his parents when he was grown probably sounded something like this.:

“Take your time... don’t live too fast, Troubles will come and they will pass. Go find a good woman and you’ll find love, And don’t forget son, There is someone up above.
And be a simple kind of man. Be something you love and understand. Be a simple kind of man.”

These are the lyrics from the chorus of the song Simple Man by Lynyrd Skynyrd. I don’t think dad was a fan but for me it perfectly described the kind of man he was.

Dad did find and marry “a good women” named Lorraine Mueller on April 28th, 1951. She was 18 and he was 21. They had a Hollywood honeymoon at Niagara Falls.

While still living in Baltimore, they brought three boys into the world, Wally, Tim and me. Later dad transferred to Lawton Oklahoma and eventually we moved to Tulsa. Sometime in between getting married and having children dad decided to change his last name to King which is an English translation of Krolczyk (little prince) I prefer King to Little Prince.

Mom loved us boys (maybe not always) but wanted a little girl and my dad was a willing co-conspirator. In March of 1969, a little princess named Elaina was welcomed into this world by the King family. The King family now had a princess to go along three prince’s. Mom was content. I unfortunately had to relinquish the baby title to Elaina as her senior by 11 years.

Dad was working in the finance business all during this time. In 1975 dad made a drastic career switch. He went from management to laborer while working at Tulsa Ford Glass. He was a faithful member of UAW Local 1895.
During this time, dad coached Elaina’s soccer team and was excited when he found out at 28 that I was going to start playing soccer. Even though he thought he was “over the hill” at 50 he was inspired to play soccer also. So, he joined the “Over the Hill” soccer league. I’ve always admired him for this. Dad worked at Ford until January 1st, 1996 when he retired.

Dad enjoyed relatively good health until this year. He said he just felt tired after installing a fence at 79 years old.

One night at the hospital, he attempted to get up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. He did not want the help of a nurse nor did he want to trouble anyone. Remember, he was a simple man. His attempt to get out of bed was met with unwilling legs due to a sleeping pill and the effect of the cancer that was weakening his body. He ended up on the floor in the middle of the room. His roommate Earl, who was admitted earlier that day for a possible heart attack attempted to help him but dad would not allow it out of concern for Earl. So, he laid on the floor until the nurses arrived. He told them “I didn’t fall” “I didn’t fall” he was laughing at himself while telling us the story . He told mom that he really didn’t fall he just “slithered” out of bed.

After we learned of the diagnosis, dad said to me “I’ve lived a good life with a great wife and kids. He was content and accepted his fate without complaint. And so today we say goodbye to him. A simple man who when confronted with his illness, never complained, was always positive and courageous throughout the pain. He set a wonderful example for his children. And his children helped him travel to the other side. Today, dad is alive in all of us.

These last three weeks it seemed that time had stood still. I kept hearing a song by the late Jim Croce called “Time in a Bottle”.

If I could save Time in a bottle
The first thing that I'd like to do
Is to save every day till Eternity passes away
Just to spend them with you
If I could make days last forever
If words could make wishes come true
Id save every day like a treasure and then, Again,
I would spend them with you...

Heb 12:1 says, “Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a huge crowd of witnesses to the life of faith, let us strip off every weight that slows us down. On August 19th at 08:47 am, dad through off the weight of cancer and crossed over while his loving wife and faithful daughter held his hand and told him everything would be okay.

Dad left a legacy of ten grand children and 9 great grand children (with 1 more on the way) and many friends. He left this world on his own terms and his own time. He put his life in order, said his good byes. He was ready to go. As mom would say later He just “slithered” away.

I know that when he passed, we his earthly family and friends are mourning his loss but at the same time his heavenly family and friends celebrate his arrival much in the same manner that we will celebrate the birth of Henry, dad’s tenth great grandchild in November that he so wanted to meet.

Dad said to me while in the hospital “you know, I’m not a religious person but I am spiritual. He had read the bible, lived the “Golden Rule”, knew the Lord’s Prayer and along with Mom, believed in the wisdom of Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 and he believed in an after life.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 says,
There is a time for everything, a season for every activity under heaven.
A time to be born and a time to die. A time to plant and a time to harvest.
A time to kill and a time to heal. A time to tear down and a time to rebuild.
A time to cry and a time to laugh. A time to grieve and a time to dance.
A time to scatter stones and a time to gather stones.
A time to embrace and a time to turn away.
A time to search and a time to lose. A time to keep and a time to throw away.
A time to tear and a time to mend. A time to be quiet and a time to speak up.
A time to love and a time to hate. A time for war and a time for peace.
This is our time to cry, grieve, and embrace ...

Please join me in reciting the Lord’s Prayer
Our Father in heaven,
hallowed be your name.
Your Kingdom come,
your will be done,
on earth as in heaven
Give us today our daily bread.
Forgive us our sins,
as we forgive those who sin against us.
Lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil.
For the kingdom, the power and the glory are yours.
Now and for ever.
Amen

This is poem “When I’m Gone” we believe represents his desire for all of us

When I am gone release me
Let me go, I have so many things to see and do
You mustn't tie yourself to me with tears
Be happy that we had so many beautiful years
I gave to you my love
You can only guess how much you gave me in happiness
I thank you for the love you each have shown
But now it's time I travel alone
So grieve awhile for me, if grieve you must
Then let your grief be comforted by my trust
It's only for awhile that we must part
So bless the memories within your heart
I won't be far away, for life goes on
So if you need me, call and I will come
Though you can't see or touch me, I'll be near
And if you listen within your heart you'll hear
All my love around you soft and clear
And then when you must come this way alone
I'll greet you with a smile and say
"Welcome Home."

I would like to end with another poem specifically for our family, it is called The Broken Chain

We little knew that morning that God was going to call your name,In life we loved you dearly; in death we do the same.It broke our hearts to lose you, you did not go alone.For part of us went with you, the day God called you home.You left us peaceful memories, your love is still our guide,And though we cannot see you, you are always at our side.Our family chain is broken, and nothing seems the same,But as God calls us one by one, the chain will link again.

Mom and dad hoped to celebrate his 80th birthday in October and to celebrate their 60th anniversary in 2010.

Thank you very much for sharing dad’s life with us.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Football, fishing, politics and death

It has been roughly three weeks since I learned that my dad was given a death sentenced by cancer. I have been home every weekend since and will be going home every weekend until the end. It is my intention to be there for his last breath God willing. It seems poetic that he was there to experience my first breath and I be there to experience his last. You see, these last four weeks have possibly been the best I have had with my dad.

They say that the eyes are the window to the soul. I have looked deeply into his eyes many times during this most difficult time. I can't think of any time prior that we shared a glimpse of each others soul. In fact, we are sharing something most profound in my mind. It is amazing that sharing can occur without saying a thing. Dad was never the most affectionate person. Being a father of grown children, I can understand how awkward it is to be affectionate with grown children. You think they don't need it and you think you don't need it. Dad has shared touch with me like never before. I am compelled to kiss him on the cheek when I see him. I want to hold his hand and he reaches for mine. My grandchildren have revived my need for affection. Their unconditional love has a healing power mostly overlooked by the world.

Yes, dad and I have spoken much the last three weeks. we talk about football, fishing, politics and death. My dad and I have always talked about fishing and football. We didn't see eye to eye about politics until recently. Death is a difficult subject for most. I believe death is part of living and is a deeply spiritual experience. Death knows no stranger and comes to the rich and the poor. No one can escape deaths grasp. We can run all our life from death only to end up in the same place as those who embraced the reality. Embracing what we are afraid of is the only way to live our lives. Live day to day for the troubles of tomorrow are sufficient unto themselves.

Conversing with my dad about death is a spiritual experience for me. He seems more comfortable talking about death now then he does talking about living. I guess in a way he is living in both worlds. I have to believe it is difficult waiting for death to take his last breath. Everyday he must wonder if it will be his last. I pray that God will strengthen him for the battle to come and that he will embrace him when he crosses over. For all the weight he feels now I know soon he will be set free of this earthly body and only feel the loving embrace of God. I know that loved ones are waiting anxiously for his arrival and I am comforted by the Spirit of God to know one day he will be waiting for me as I finish this life's journey. It is with sorrow and joy that I contemplate my dad's last day on earth. I will miss him in ways I can't experience now. I am sincerely thankful for this time capsule to truly get to know him in a way not possible when the cares of this world steal away our attention from those who are the most important in our lives.

I always loved my dad but my love for him now is more like a rainbow with many colors. I am experiencing love physically, emotionally and spiritually.

It is a blessing from my two dads....

Thursday, August 6, 2009

The Fishing Rod

It is sad that we allow events in our life to affect our relationships. As I mentioned in an earlier blog, I was afraid of my dad when I was growing up. Dad traveled for work and when he came home we was tired. He also suffered from allergy problems. As a result, he didn’t always display the most patience. Now, I can relate since I am not the most patient person either. Nevertheless, when you are little boy and dad is much bigger and yelled a lot it can be intimidating. Because he traveled, he was not available for father and son events. Now, mom made up for most of that so I certainly was not missing out playing sports or Cub Scouts. I just didn’t have quality time with Dad. So, my perception was that he was mad and yelled all the time. I say all this not for pity or to blame my lack of patience on him. I am a grown man (I’m 51) and responsible for my own behavior.

One of the best things Dad did was taking me fishing and even though he could be short with us, I enjoyed fishing and thus could tolerate his impatience. My love for fishing grew because of many trips we took. Some with Tim and Wally and some with only Dad and I. We have plenty of funny stories centered on camping and fishing I will tell later.

Anyway, as I grew into my teens I was fishing almost everyday. We had many ponds only a few miles from our house. I could be fishing within 15 minutes on ponds that had plenty of nice bass and crappie. Dad had a Fenwick worm rod that I really liked and he hardly ever used. He preferred spinning reels and I preferred at the time the infamous Zebco 33. The Fenwick was for spincast or baitcasting reel not a spinning reel. I was using his rod without asking him. I didn’t have the money in junior high and high school to buy a new rod. It is a good excuse anyway. I just really liked the rod. One day I am unloading my fishing tackle from the car. I had leaned the rod on the inside of the door as I reached to get something (probably a cigarette). The rod apparently slid and stopped on the door hinge about the same time a gust of wind came up and blew the door enough to close on and break the rod. Shit! Not only had I broken my favorite rod but it was my dad’s rod that I did not have permission to use. Plus, I couldn’t fish!

I didn’t tell my dad I had broken his rod. I was a coward that is all there is to it. As a result, I avoided him at all times. I was terrified that he would ask about it. At this time he was working at the Ford Glass plant on midnights so I really didn’t see him much anyway (nobody did really). I went on like this for several years and I allowed my fear of him to impact our relationship. I think he knew and was waiting on me to say something. He had every chance to yell at me like I thought he would. I was to stupid to realize that my perception of him was not reality. Yes, he had a short fuse and could yell loud. Yes, I witness some fights between him and mom. However, I really didn’t know how kind and generous he could be. That fact is, I didn’t know him.

My mom had a surprise birthday/Baby Shower for Lisa and I. I got married at 18 and would have my first child (Jessee) at 19. The shower was at mom’s house. All the family and friends were there. We had a few beers. Dad of course was a sleep because he worked midnights. Once I get a little loose, I felt remorse for breaking the rod and for not fessing up. So, I marched (stumbled is a better word) up the stairs to his room. I woke him up and confessed it all. Of course, I had tears and he was probably a little confused since I woke him up. He didn’t get mad or preach to me about responsibility and integrity. He could have and I deserved it. He just forgave me.

This event had affected our relationship for several years. I’m not sure he even knew why or if he did he never said a word. I realized then that he was not the man I thought he was. Our relationship grew from there. Now, we still had a few disagreements over the years but we also found many things in common. Dad always regretted not being around more when we were growing up. I can remember saying, “I’ll be a better dad then my father one day”. Well, I made many of the same mistakes he did. I allowed work to take a bigger part of my life then I should have. I wasn’t always patient with my children or wife. My dad on many occasions complemented my of being a good father. His affirmation meant the world to me.

I was got older my perspective changed. The anger at my father all those years began to melt away. I consciously forgave him a long time ago for anything I perceived he did wrong to me. I have never blamed my shortcomings on him.

The fishing rod was a wonderful life lesson on responsibility, honesty, and forgiveness. It also showed me what kind of man he truly was. I was not always proud of my dad when I was growing up. I am so proud of him now. He is a giving and loving person that I can only hope I grow into.
I am 51 years old and Dad is my hero…..

Monday, August 3, 2009

Time In A Bottle

If I could save Time in a bottle
The first thing that I'd like to do
Is to save every day til Eternity passes away
Just to spend them with you


These are part of the lyrics from Jim Croce's Time In A Bottle. These are the words that kept running through mind this past week. I actually felt as if time stood still for the five days. All of my family was together in my father's house for potentially the last time. We laughed, cried, and pondered memories that helped us all to progress in our individual journey of loss and mourning. My dad slept most of the time and wrestled with nausea all weekend. When he was up he had a smile and kind thoughtful things to say to all.

It may be hard for those outside of this time capsule to understand what a blessing these five days were for me and my family. I felt such peace once my dad was home. To have all the familiar voices of my childhood surrounding me was comforting to my spirit.

It was difficult to say goodbye to not only my dad but the rest of my family. I kissed my dad (my family is not overly affectionate) on the cheek which I found my self doing repeatedly. We looked each other in the eyes and I felt he was embracing my soul. I told him I would be back every weekend if possible.

Wally and I embraced and cried but never made eye contact for fear that we might not be able to contain our tears.

Today, I went back to work. I really wanted to stay in Tulsa to hold on that time in a bottle that felt like heaven to me. I wrestled with work because I want to think about my dad every moment. I got through it and found myself somewhat productive.

I spoke with mom tonight and found that my dad had a good day today. He had a visit from a nurse who changed his blood thinner and gave him something for his nausea. I hope mom and dad have some peaceful intimate time together to heal any wounds, to bond, and to express their eternal love for one another.

If I could make days last forever
If words could make wishes come true
Id save every day like a treasure and then,Again,
I would spend them with you...

Saturday, August 1, 2009

Coming Home

Friday evening my dad was released from the hospital. This was not expected and my dad's spirit was revived. He wanted nothing more than to be at home. Sometime in the coming week he will meet with hospice.


The Oncologist could not give us anything specific for how long he has. She estimates it to be months. For some reason I had it in my head that it was weeks. I felt an impending sense of urgency that seemed like a 400 pound gorilla was sitting on my chest. Hearing months versus weeks immediately freed me to breath again. I realize that there are no guarantees so I will cherish every minute I have with him. My mom also was relieved to hear months versus weeks. I can already see her pouring out love upon my father in ways I've not seen in a long time.


My two brothers (Wally & Tim) arrived today. My dad is very happy to see them. I am glad also as I only see them a few times a year. Tim lives in Chicago and Wally lives in Columbus.


I continue to have rushes of emotion. I cry easily now as I contemplate the end of my dad's life. I understand the process this cancer will take. I realize that his energy will slowly fade and that right now is the high point. I do not look forward to the eventual loss of energy. I want to him to always be strong and I'm coming to grips that he will eventually become weaker.


I helped him today to get up and go to the bathroom. I helped him put on his socks. For most of my life my dad helped me in many different ways. And I while I'm writing that I helped my dad, the reality is that he is still helping me. It is said that it is better to give than receive. My dad is helping me to learn to give. Life is truly like a rose. It is beautiful yet has thorns that bring pain. . My dad served me in life and now I get to serve him in death. I'm truly blessed. My tears are tears of joy and pain. I will miss my dad but my faith in an after life sustain me. I know that when he passes to the other side he will be embraced my those who went before him and have been waiting for him.


I know that one day too my dad will embrace me once again...