He Didn't Take Any of it With Him

My last post was a segway into this post. I first wanted to get the point across about what a wonderful man I have for a father. I felt it would make this post more meaningful to my readers.

Last week I called my dad in tears, wondering how I was going to keep it all together. It felt like every time I would take one step forward in my life, I would be knocked back two. I never lost sight of what is most important to me, but the line between what was a priority and what wasn't had become too gray for my sanity. We have talked more frequently since my daughter was born and I started dealing with PPD. He has been there for me every step of the way, helping me find my way back, helping me put everything back into perspective.

During our conversation, I remembered what I had temporarily forgotten. This life is not about money, it isn't about clean houses, it isn't about job titles, or possessions. It isn't about looks, weight, or wrinkles. It is about family, friends, love, gratitude, and everything immaterial. All of the stupid things I was worrying or crying about when I called him would be a non-issue weeks, months, or years from that moment. They meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. They were just... things.

One of the last times I saw my grandmother before she died, she gave me some of her prized possessions. She knew that in a short matter of time, they would stay here, and she would depart this mortal coil. It was in that moment that I realized everything is just stuff. We can't take it with us. None of it.

I was relating this to my dad when he told me about how during the days after his father passed, he was standing in front of his dad's closet. My grandma came in and asked what he was doing. My dad replied, "Just looking at all of dad's things. He didn't take any of it with him."

Sure, things can bring us joy and pleasure during our existence on this earth, but they are not the end-all-be-all. They are certainly not anything to fret over. In the end, they mean nothing. Our relationships and who we learn to be during our time here is what matters.

Maybe there isn't anything after this life, and maybe there is. If there isn't, doesn't that making enjoying this life even more important? Why waste it lamenting what isn't? Why not enjoy the things we do have, but most importantly, our relationships with others.

I find myself being kind to everyone. There is worth in everyone. Sometimes it is hidden under the layers of of the person's experiences in life. Sometimes, and is rarely the case, the worth can be very minute, but it is still there. But in general, people are good. We're all here to be happy, to find joy. I find more often than not, people get joy most by bringing joy to others, myself included. Isn't that what it is all about?

If I could teach my daughter just one thing in this life, it would be to find the joy in life, not in possessions. To never let the line between them become gray. Because that is where true happiness lies.

My Rock

In all of the craziness that has been going on in my life of late, I always know that there is one constant.

My rock.

My father.

My dad and I have always been very close. He always knows exactly what to say to make a bad situation tolerable. He knows how to talk me down from a ledge. He loves me unconditionally, and the feeling is fully mutual. We have a bond that I don't share with any other person in my life, including my husband. My husband is great, but he doesn't think like my dad does, and he doesn't understand me the way my dad does. I don't think he really tries. That isn't a diss on my sweetie. I love him very much too, but our emotional relationship is completely different from the one I have with my dad.

When things go wrong, or when I feel like I just can't carry the weight of the world on my shoulders any longer, I call my dad because I know he will help me make sense of it all. He will help carry the load. He will pick me up off my knees, enclose me in his arms, and let me shed my tears on his shoulder.

I learn a lot from my dad. I try to be like him in all things. I try to think like him, treat people the way he would, look at everything in this world the way he does. My mind is open, my heart is accepting, just like my dad's.

I know I am blessed to have such a close relationship with my father. I know he doesn't share this same relationship with any of my other siblings. That is not to say I think he loves me more, but he does love us all differently. I am honored and blessed to be his daughter. He is the most wonderful, caring, generous man I have ever known. I have yet to introduce him to anyone in my life that doesn't instantly love or respect my dad.

He is a great man.