Life’s Transition Point
I sit here at one of the many transitions my life has offered to me. A time where a line is drawn in the sand, behind me is the life I can reflect upon and in front of me is a great mystery and the unknown life I will create after. It is the end of an era, my father passed away unexpectedly the other day. His death comes along with mixed emotions and a lot of relief and closure.
There is a completion when life comes full circle to death. It is a fact of life that we all will have to deal with. I certainly am stirring with feelings ranging from anger to grief and sadness. What I do know after 20+ years of hospice volunteer work is how grief works on its own terms. All I know how to do is sit and be as present as I can with what is at the moment and await the next turn in the road.
There is duplicity and duality in our existence with many different perspectives. My father had his wonderful and beautiful traits, as well his dark side that he hid so extremely well. We all have a light and dark side to ourselves. As wonderful as I feel about the positive things my father brought to my life, I think it is just as important to illuminate some of the darkness that surrounded him, so that nothing of my father’s existence become a hungry ghost. My intent for this writing is to allow the full and complete man of my father into existence. As above, so below… as within, so without. In complete and perfect balance, holding him with the upmost positive regard.
In Honor Of My Father
My father, Jay, was a happy-go-lucky guy who was full of positivity, loved living life, and always had a smile on his face. It was not uncommon for him to run into people he knew wherever he was, anywhere in the world. He greeted all strangers as his next soon to be best friend. My cousin Steve Leavitt puts it so well, “I will always feel the light from Jay’s smile and heart and his fearless inspiration to carve an individual path through this world”. My cousin Janis Newcomen also says it like it is, “I always had a good feeling about your dad as he had one of the loveliest smiles and often a twinkle in his eyes”.
Jay loved the outdoors. When he was 17, in a radical act of defiance, he escaped some of the craziness in his own family and with a bunch of friends, drove to Yosemite from Chicago before he left for college. It’s a story of courageousness he frequently came back to over the years. Some of my fondest memories with my father include being in nature. Places like Alaska, Arches National Park, Acadia National Park, white water rafting, being a ski ambassador for the Aspen Ski Company, tending to the apple orchard, and winter camping in Wisconsin. He even built his home on the side of a mountain in Colorado where he could take in the beauty of the Rocky Mountain’s majesty every day.
I was turned on to my father’s love for music at a young age. Jay had accumulated some vinyl records and cassette tapes over the years. I remember his fondness for Fleetwood Mac and some jazz musicians like Chick Correa, Al DiMeola and Pat Metheny. I was lucky enough to have experienced a couple of live concerts with him, and in various forms of altered states of consciousness .
My father was full of creativity and expressed it being an artist at his core. As a young man he began creating. From string art, watercolor painting, photography, and carving marble. He poured his creative outlet into his career as an architect. He didn’t do well in a traditional 9-to-5 job. And when his jobs began not working for him, he resigned. Always following his desires and what he wanted to do. Dealing with the consequences along the way.
History
My father never spoke much of his parents or the kind of environment in which he grew up in. It wasn’t until later in my life that I became curious about it. I was fortunate enough to have the opportunity to dialogue with him about his family growing up to learn more about him and understand some of the ways he operated in his life.
Trying to get to know how my father was feeling… about situations and life events was a feat, if even possible. In fact, he never spoke much about his feelings at all. He compartmentalized and denied experiencing his feelings for much of his life. He learned at a young age it was dangerous and not a good idea to talk about feelings… until it became too late, and he lost his shit and blew up. His emotional unavailability was frustrating and something my mother got infuriated by.
I learned more from my father about my paternal grandmother and grandfather and the family my father grew up in. After learning more about him and his family, I got a better understanding about my own life. The issues in my immediate family started to make more sense. I was surprised to hear from him that his family was full of conflict, fighting, playing favorites, anger, alcoholism and avoidance. There was a streak of avoidance in my family as well, where people made a choice not to speak feelings and personal truths. This created an environment of omission, naturally becoming deceit. The deceit turned into lies which turned into betrayal. While this was a hard thing to come to terms with and to realize, it made sense as I was able to reflect on some of these issues in my own families’ drama that looked a lot like his.
Integration
There was a time in my own life where I was determined to stop the generational traumas as I mentioned above. Healing some of these patterns and attachments from my past was looking at me in the face. I needed to learn how to access my emotions, speak to them without shame or blame, and learn what it meant to “love well”.
A rumor had circulated that I had joined a cult as I began spending time at a retreat center in upstate New York to get free from the past’s bondage. My mother became curious enough to go to the retreat center and experience what that was all about, but not my father. Jay wasn’t so much interested in his own personal psychological growth, emotional intelligence, self-reflection, or introspection. I imagine it was just too painful for him. What I do know, he was one of those “drive-by-drop-offs” into therapy by my mother from time to time.
Inspiration
Jay inspired a lot of people to lean into their individualism. I was inspired by him to follow my dreams and not get stuck in societal norms. To make the leap of faith and take the risks to live my best life. I felt supported by my father to become the man I was always meant to be. Even if he had a hard time expressing it. He allowed and supported me to feel how I did as I explored the extreme edges of life and do the healing I needed to do to feel more grounded, complete and whole. He was an incredibly sweet man who would not hesitate to extend goodwill and his heart to someone or a charitable event… even at his own expense sometimes.
My father is one reason, if not the main reason, I will be able to leave my quarter century career as a college professor and create a new life chapter for myself. Making a new home in a place in the world where cultural values resonate with my soul. Overwhelmed with gratitude for my father and I thank for helping me achieve this possibility for myself. I am fortunate enough to have had the opportunity to verbally communicate this to him on multiple occasions before his death.
Here I sit… in the messiness of all the emotions… remembering my father and all the joy I have been able to experience with him… and all the frustrations and events I wish could be different, that I realize and know very well cannot happen. I don’t believe that everything happens for a reason but, I do believe all that happens in life is for our benefit.
I stand tall and proud as I salute my father, Jay, while his spirit has left his body, and he makes his way into the unknown mystery that we are all destined to experience someday.