He called them, "Little dudes"
My son David loved the foster kids who lived with him. He called them "Little dudes". In his final message that David left to those of us who loved and cared about him, David wrote, "I truly loved them...."
As David's father, it is my responsibility to go thru all the zillions of things that David left behind. To look at each thing, evaluate it, and decide what to do with it. I am doing that this Sunday evening. There are soooooo many pieces of clothing for the "little dudes". You would not believe. I am sorting thru all the stuff, then carrying it down stairs to the living room area to spread out into piles.
Once down there, I feel that I'll get a better grasp of what to do with all this stuff. While doing this sad job, I am drawn in tight, closer to the person who was David, my son. Who, thru his love and compassion for these little dudes, spent countless hours planning for and thinking about their welfare.
And now it falls to me, to take down all that work and dispose of it. Oh Lord! How I wish that I did not have to be doing this work! This final, terrible work!
When a man lives.....
As I go thru this stuff, I come upon individual things. A photo with a sticky note attached to it. Why was that photo important enough to David to single it out with a sticky note?
When a man lives, his thoughts are connected to the myriad of things that he owns. And when that man dies, that connection, that "why" and "what" is broken. What should I do with that photo with the sticky note? That photo that was important to David but whose meaning is now meaningless to me? There are a zillion questions with no answers.....
10PM - Going up and down stairs
I'm getting tired from going up and down the stairs. From David's bedroom upstairs, to the living room down stairs, and then back up the stairs again. I'm quitting now. The bedroom is beginning to look orderly.
Did I mention to you that I've re-joined the Big-C Athletic Club? Last year I spent a month working out at Big-C during May, 2010. It is good for me to get away from David's home and work out a bit. I'm quitting this clean-up now, and going for a nice bubble bath. Then early tomorrow morning go to the Big-C.
9PM, Monday October 25th- The Hunan Restaurant
This evening I treated myself to the Hunan Restaurant in the City of Concord. Hunan was a favorite of son David. There is a strange thing that I do thruout my day. When I see something that reminds me of the fantastic life that David lived, I shake my head and smile to myself!
Why do I do that? Hmmm? Well, I am shaking my head in disbelief. Because it is soooooo strange and bewildering to me that somebody like David would kill himself. David had so much. His life was so rich. He lived the high-life, able to buy almost any toy that he wanted.
Don't get me wrong. I am not faulting David or being critical of him for his suicide. Each one of us including myself is solely responsible for stuff like that. However, when I was eating the wonderful food tonite at the Hunan, I could not stop myself from asking David if he wished he was still alive and having supper here with me at his favorite Chinese restaurant?
I do not believe that we survive our physical death. But, that belief does not stop me from talking to relatives and friends who are dead. It gives me comfort to talk to dead people. Don't you talk to dead loved ones too?.