It’s never too late to love your Dad

I’m not quite sure when it all started, but sometime during the past year I began to experience a dramatic change in my attitude toward my father, who died in December of 1999 at the age of 95.

I felt alien and distant from my Dad while he was alive–I didn’t understand him, and he didn’t understand me.

But now, as if by magic, I see Dad in a totally new light. It is as if I have forgiven him for the past and he has forgiven me.

I see him as the ageless and charming being he truly is, indomitable, brave and kind. More important, I see him as an ally and friend, who free of the constraints of time, can love me fully and freely now with the unconditional love that for whatever reason, eluded us when he was alive.

I feel Dad cheering me on as I move forward in my own life journey–my 85th birthday is not too far off—and enfolding me with his love, enthusiasm, and courage.

Above all, I feel him wanting to assure me and anyone else who may be on my ‘wave-length’ that we are not the transient creatures we sometimes think we are–bounded by birth at one end and death at the other.

Yes, our bodies are mortal. They age, and die, just as all forms do. But our spirit does not age, and it does not die. We are immortal, proud and free, and we always have been.

As Julia Assante, PhD, mystic, scholar, and author of a beautiful book entitled ‘The Last Frontier,’ likes to say: “Death is not what separates us from the departed. Fear is.”

I do realize this post touches into a difficult, sensitive area. But if you have any thoughts you’d like to share on the above, please do write. I would love to hear from you.


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