Here is a short section from a book my Dad use to read to me as a little girl.
The Velveteen Rabbit. When I think of the Rabbit I think of my Dad.
"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"
"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."
"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.
"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."
"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"
"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."
Today marks the 26th anniversary of my Dads death. I remember it clear as this day. We got a call my Dad was at the hospital we had no idea he was dead. I was 17 years old and never knew anyone who had died. It was a huge shock. I was a bratty teenage girl and I remember getting in an argument with my father the day before, because he wouldn't let me go to the mall. I told him I hated him. That was the last thing I remember telling him. So you could image how this affected me my entire life. It still does. I have this thing about telling my friends I love them often. If they died the next day I would know that I told them how I felt with kind words. As I write this it brings up the sadness only I can understand.
I know he watches over me and knows I love him and always will. I know I will be with him and my Mom ,and sister and others who pasted away one day.
Make sure you tell someone you love them today. And never end a fight with I hate you. Maybe say I don't like you right now, but I love you always.
I love all of you.
I miss you Daddy ,and I love you always. RIP John C. Corbett.
Your little Peanut.
12 comments:
Your blog has meant so very, very much to me, thank you for sharing yourself with a blog. Your posts have pulled me through some recent difficult times, and for that I thank you. Keep on keeping on, you are inspirational.
Oh, Catra, that's so sad. I'm sorry you had to go through that (and the guilt afterwards). Sending positive vibes your way...
I had a Father whom I disliked as well as hated at times. I was beaten as a young boy, and was scared to death of him. He passed away one year after I got straight and sober, and when I went to his bedside in the hospital, I hugged him, and told him I loved him. At that time, I really didn't want him to die, but it has made it easier to know that where-ever he is, he knows I loved him, through it all.
Enjoying the posts about some of the special people in your life! Thanks for sharing.
Sorry I was a no show at One World today. Since it was a rest day and there wouldn't be a coached workout, I did a swim workout at Clubsport and then sat in the steam room for a lonnnnng time.
See you soon!
Sara
Thank you for sharing that Catra..it is beautiful and very wise.
FYI..I think every kid has said that to a parent; I'm sure you know that and guess what..your dad knows that too..it's just being a kid.
I'm mad at myself for saying careless things as an adult..I try not to do that. Thanks for the reminder.
Thanks Catra for sharing that. You are a beautiful person. Much love always, Debbie
Dearest Catra,
there is an incredible TRUTH in that children's story you quoted. For sure your dad loved you very much and he continues loving you from ABOVE. You know that - you feel it every single day. You are a remarkable person. You care. You can be PROUD of yourself. I admire the way you are TRUE.
Sweet greetings fro Germany.
Katerina
I can understand how you feel about "the last words." When my dad suddenly died, I hung on to the fact that we hugged and said we loved each other before we went to bed and there is where he died. I totally agree with what your words mean can help with the "healing" of a persons death.
My love language is words so I heart You Catra.....
Catra,
I discovered your blog just a few weeks ago. You are so positive and I really appreciate your outlook on life and training. While I really enjoy reading your entries, I never left a comment before today. My Dad alost died on this day, 14 years ago. His passing has left a huge imprint on me. Since that day, I try to be true to myself and honor the values he left me. You are an inspiration to me. Melanie
Whoah, I love that section from the Velveteen Rabbit. Thank you for putting it up there. I lost my Dad when I was fifteen, his birthday was yesterday, he would have been 84 if he hadn't died when he was 56. I've got three siblings and we spent a good hour reminiscing about him via email yesterday. It was so much fun, happy and sad all at the same time. Like you, I was a bratty teen when he left this earth. Now as a parent myself, I'm really starting to get what an awesome man he was.
Your Dad must have been something else to raise you. You're a regular inspiration in my life.
hi catra mike from chihuahua v rd a father loves his girl,always i know in my heart your father loved you ,i am sure the love you give ,was but a seed planted by your mother and father and what has blossemed is the love you have to give ,you.
I always made it a point to tell my father I loved him. He had me at an older age and I knew he wouldn't be around for ever. When he did pass, I felt secure knowing I had expressed my feelings for him often. I recommend telling those close to you how you feel because one day they will be gone.
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