Subliminal Hearts & Twinkle Lights on Valentine's Day: To Daddy 2018

Is subliminal a word?  My brain is so scattered that I truly don't know.  My mind is mush.  My life is different than I've ever known it to be.   Oh, and my heart...not just heavy.  It's gone.

As I write, it is unseasonably warm for February (77 degrees Fahrenheit) in Arkansas.  Wind howls this afternoon.  So, I build upon the load of worry.  I anticipate the weather forecast section of local news.  Will it rain on my Daddy's grave before we get him in it?  Will it storm at the service tomorrow?  Are people going to be uncomfortable?  Gale force winds perhaps? Will we all be wrapped in the velvet from the funeral home tent somewhat like Scarlett O'Hara when she fashioned a green dress out of parlor room curtains?  The humor is helpful momentarily but the sad returns.

Oh, my heart.....where are you?
When are you coming back?
There's an empty space in my chest.
You can't stay with Daddy because I need my heart back to go on.
I need a heart to live and laugh.
My heart makes me love and share.
I want to go whole-heartedly like always, like Daddy said to do.
Strive for peace of mind, with all your heart, he said.

Will it take a force of nature, a storm of sorts, to position my heart back in place so I can breathe and do? Time to get back on track.  Oh, my heart....where are you?

My sweet uncle pointed out to me today that my father was historically considerate of others, and I know for a fact he was  - to the point of his very own inconvenience at times.   For example, when he gave haircuts on Saturday nights to a Vietnam Veteran who'd been shunned by the 'town barber' for drinking.  When he got up all sleepy-eyed in the middle of the night to rub my little tummy if it hurt.  Maybe, when he offered a warm welcome at the front door to a convicted felon who needed a bit of hope to move forward.

Or  perhaps when he wore this silly party hat for his grand-daughter's birthday party?  Or the time he stuffed a billy goat in the trunk of his car to save it from being hurt on the highway.  Said goat politely hopped out of the Impala and ate my mother's rose bush then proceeded to destroy several articles of clothing crisply drying on the line.  This was because of his heart....the very heart that stopped beating inside his body on Tuesday.

I believe my heart skipped a beat at that same time and I am no longer synchronized with what I know I have to do.  My heart will not beat as before; it simply will not.   I have attempted to will it so.  I have tried meditation, medication, massive amounts of caffeine and denial.  You see, when Daddy had to go, he put me in charge of a different heartbeat.  As always, with his last act, he challenged me to have a better heart.  I have to adjust myself whether by jolt of  thunder and lightening at a grave or jolt of realization that what is happening is very real and true.  If the storm is literal, or only living in my heart, I know I can bear the shock if I square my shoulders and walk with the storm for a minute.  My dad went right into the storm with heart.  I have to go inside and find it.  I shall learn from him still.

My current heartbeat won't sustain.  It jerks from time to time with a shrill pain of loss.  It slows down and wants to just crumble.  Then, it feels a hopeful tug from joyful memories and laughter, simple smiles and glances. The clanking sound of the spoon stirring a dab of sugar in the coffee cup.  My sweet Daddy only needed a slightest dab of sugar.  Karla avoids it these days on purpose.  But, she does know she can't go on at this pace.  Her family needs her heart to sync back up to her peace of mind.

The heart ...being such a fragile and critical thing, tender yet strong, essential yet unseen and damaged can still beat.  Elsewise, we would not know love and loss.  My father's heart knew.  Mine will too.  I have to follow the twinkle in his eye, the light from his love, the familiar beat of his heart.

Daddy, I'm getting there.  I realize you protected my heart so much with your own for 51 years.  I believe I can get that new rhythm lined out.  And, I think my tiny insignificant heart has been touched by so much love and respect for  your gigantic and wonderful heart!  I love you Daddy....I do still feel the love from your heart.  I hear you say my name.  I can see right into your eyes.  And, when I focus, I understand your message.  We will keep it about the 'heart'.  No need for more words.  Subliminal all the way.  Rain or shine,  we will honor your life from now on.

So, when is my heart coming back?  When I recall your laugh.  If I think of your favorite songs.  Every time I choose not to care what someone else thinks of me.  Encouraging honesty and integrity where I can.   Whenever I remember your groovy straight silver hair.  Sharing stories of good days with my family.  By telling of your deeds and your gentle way of living.  Maybe when the twinkle lights come on, my heart can blink itself back to where we can beat on subliminal time.  Lucky for me, my brothers are in charge of the twinkle lights!  They learned how to be real men from you Daddy...