I'm Going to DisneyI

Well, in 12 short hours I'm headed to the Magic Kingdom. Before you get all jealous... it's a working vacation. And I'm bringing Mom. I think we both need to head out of Dodge for a little while, and this is just fortuitous timing.

I'm headed to a conference, which will be 3-4 days of sheer madness. Straight work. The last conference I went to was a lot of fun, but there's a need to be "on" 24/7 - attending presentations, constantly logging in to work, networking, trying to get the most of out of it all, and make sure they don't regret sending me... but of course, the networking events usually have alcohol, and I have no filter, so I have to work really hard during the daytime events to make up for my behavior at the evening events. What can I say? It's a lot of pressure being me!

Anyway, we head down tomorrow afternoon, and have Sat night and all day Sunday to relax before the conference and tough work starts. The conference ends on Thursday, and Mom and I will be driving down to Key West. Sounds tough, right?

Well... then we do the really tough part. We say good bye to Dad. His will listed out all of his advanced medical directives, and on the back of it he hand wrote several instructions. He didn't want a wake. He wanted to be cremated. He wanted a memorial service that was full of music and a celebration of his life. And then he wanted his ashes scattered either in Rhode Island or Key West. The places he was happiest. Where he kayaked and had great memories with Mom. The places he was at peace and was able to just sit back and enjoy life.

When we get to Key West we'll be dispersing Dad's ashes. Saying a final good-bye, and making sure he's resting where he always wanted to be, in the warm waters of the Florida Keys. I'm eerily calm about the whole thing. I expected to be very anxious and fretting, but there's a certain comfort in knowing that we're following his wishes. Knowing he'd be happy that we figured out a way to get there.

It's been less than 7 weeks since he passed away. I miss him terribly. Not a day goes by that I don't think about him, wish I could hear his voice, miss just chatting in the aisle at work. I said good-bye to him in the hospital, but it was just words. I don't think I've let him go yet.

I remember a conversation with him last summer. We were chatting out on my parent's patio about all the crap that had gone on over the last few years, losing the babies, Gram's health, his surgery, and how all the different members of our family handled the stress so differently. I remember telling him that I couldn't ever regret having the babies. I couldn't keep getting myself worked up or upset by how sick he had been before the surgery, because I couldn't believe in the world as a dark, cruel place. I had to still believe in joy and beauty of the universe, and for those reasons, I was grateful I had BT and MP. I loved them. They left us too soon, but I was grateful for the precious moments I held them. I was grateful that Dad was so sick that we knew to take his condition seriously, and that the surgery had saved his life. It was the only way to still see the world that I wanted to be a part of.

I still want to believe in that world. If Dad were here now, I think he'd remind me to look at the way things have worked out - we have the opportunity to get to the beach, the warm weather, try to relax a little, and say a proper farewell. There is something good flowing through the universe. Even though our hearts are broken, there's beauty and wonder if you look for it.

Here's hoping there's a little beauty and wonder in it for everyone this week.