Help for Healing

Bitter & Sweet, living daily with grief

He WAS there!

4 Comments

It’s funny how sometimes the “facts” of your life can change as your perspective and experience grows. Maybe a little growing up too. I remember when I was initially immersed in therapy in my 20’s and I was doing the whole evaluating my family of origin thing. Mom and I were in a lot of conflict at the time. I had this “aha” moment when I realized that I disagreed with her a lot, but it was because she was “there.” Dad just wasn’t. At least that is how it felt at the time.

I’ve mentioned before that Dad was a good, stoic German. He was not very demonstrative with his emotions or affection. It made him uncomfortable. That’s why there are lots of pictures of me sitting on his lap or my sister and I kissing him when we were older because we just kind of forced it on him (lovingly). You see his smile though, he liked it!

Progressive-Lisa, Dad, Darcy

But I was laying in bed the other night and one memory after another popped into my mind. I am rewriting my story. Dad WAS there.

The first time that comes to mind, I’m not really sure how old I was. Maybe five or six? Dad played softball at the fire hall. I think he was the pitcher. I was sitting on a blanket on the sidelines. Don’t know what family I was with but it wasn’t my family. All of a sudden I got hit hard in the head with a baseball. I was dazed. My vision was blurry but I looked and saw Dad running to me. He was there. I remember being home that night with ice on my face and Mom saying, “Poor baby.” But Dad came running, literally, when I needed him.

Next, fast forward to fourth grade. My grandma died. She and I shared a bedroom so I was very close to her. We had this ugly, brown, upholstered rocking chair, but we had it for years and years. I remember being curled up in Daddy’s lap in that chair and just crying. He didn’t say anything, just held me. He was there.

Right after I graduated high school I went on a mission trip to Europe for six weeks. I was in the driveway saying goodbye to mom and dad and we were hugging. I remember looking up and being shocked to see Dad crying. I mean tears, streaming down his face. He didn’t say a word but he didn’t have to.

In 1990, we had a huge tragedy in our family. My niece was killed in a car accident at only 10 years old. Dad was directing traffic as a firefighter and had no idea who was in the car. That tore him up. I remember him talking about it. And I remember our family going to the private viewing at the funeral home before everyone else arrived from the public. I am pretty sure it was him that stood next to me with his arm around me as we all sobbed.

In 2010, Tim was diagnosed with cancer. Our cat was too. Oreo was put on steroids and had another month where he functioned normally. Then the day came when he couldn’t walk and we knew what had to happen. Of course, the irony of knowing what lay ahead for Tim didn’t escape any of us. We were all in the bathroom as that was where we found Oreo unable to walk. It was Tim, David, Dad and me. All four of us cried. Dad was right there with us. No words were necessary.

I will never forget October 14, 2010 as long as I live. After his five month battle with cancer, Tim died at the Hospice facility. The room was full of loved ones, but it was Dad that stood next to me as the nurse examined him and looked up at us to tell us he was gone. Crazy thing about a terminal illness. You know the end is coming. You wait for it. You plan for it. But when it happens, you are shocked anyway. My knees literally buckled underneath me. Dad caught me. He literally held me up because my body wasn’t capable of it.

My story is rewritten. I had two amazing parents. As we all kept vigil as Dad was living out his last two weeks, my boyfriend Tim carved out some time alone with Dad. He told him that I wouldn’t be alone anymore. He promised to take care of me. He promised to take care of David. Even though he wouldn’t articulate it to me, I know that helped Dad to let go more peacefully.

As I had foot surgery this week and have had to sit still (which is almost impossible for me), Tim has kept his word. He has held me up, literally and figuratively. I remember him telling me that he knew he would never replace Dad, but he would do his best to be there for me.

Thank you, Dad. Thank you, Tim. And thank you God for all of them.

Graduation June 22, 1985 (3).jpg

Author: helpforhealing

My name is Darcy Thiel. What people say they appreciate most about me is my genuine nature. I utilize my professional and personal experiences to increase my understanding and compassion to help others. My career has many faces, so let me tell you about a few. I am a Licensed Mental Health Counselor in NY State and am a couple and family therapist in West Seneca, New York. Also, as an Aging Life Care Manager, I take my life experiences with my mother and husband's illnesses and passing combined with over a decade of assisting a dad with Parkinson’s, to help others navigate the crazy, complicated medical world we live in. This dovetails with the books I have written. Bitter and Sweet: A Family’s Journey with Cancer, the prequel to Life After Death, on This Side of Heaven are an honest and raw perspective on coping with the diagnosis and subsequent loss of Tim, my spouse. I have also done extensive speaking on the above topics through live audiences, radio shows, and even an occasional TV spot. For more information, see my websites at www.marriageandfamilycounseling.net, www.babycooppublishing.com, or www.darcythiel.com. Copyright Help for Healing by Darcy Thiel © 2012-2018. All rights reserved.

4 thoughts on “He WAS there!

  1. We did have the most incredible, loving parents. I can remember a few of my friends saying “ I wish I had parents like yours.” They loved their children, family and friends unconditionally. We were truly blessed. I miss them so much! Your blog always bring tears to my eyes. But, they are good tears with wonderful memories that touch my heart.

  2. This got me thinking. In 60 years I don’t remember one time when Dave wasn’t with me for a 911 call or ER visit. I would tell him he could go home but he stayed with little conversation. He was in the ER room when Jerry’s dad took his last breath. He hugged me and stayed until everyone was gone. My last 911 call Dave couldn’t be there as he was in West Seneca but Durf was at house and wondered what Dave would tell me to do. Gal bladder surgery, Dave was there almost every day for 14 days. He wouldn’t stay long but wanted to make sure I was ok. I remember him going to sit with Irene for a whole day; not asking anyone to join him. The past few years since Dick’s illness, he would call and ALWAYS ask how Dick was doing. After Jerry had his surgery, Dave would ask how he was doing and was he eating ok. Just typing this has tears on my cheeks remembering those quiet but meaningful times. Wow, he was quite the man.

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