Grieving

    Grieving is hard to do.  The hardest thing is not to get side tracked and get upset about other things.  All that upset is easily diverted to other issues--it almost seems that it wants a distraction.  But I've tried to keep my eye on the real loss, the loss of my dad.
     Many, many incoherent and seemingly random thoughts have flowed through my mind.  Then, I'll start crying about the strangest among them.
     The two most helpful things have been being able to pray--I go to Adoration or pray silently in my room--and talking with Ron.  God has been so consoling and powerfully healing; and Ron is amazingly wise, clearheaded and understanding.  Talking through these seemingly random thoughts (and raw emotions) with God and then with the person who has pledge to be "as Christ" to me has helped me break through the negativity and find so many positive ways to interpret, reprocess and analyze the way things are left, now that he's died.
     The shocking thing to me is that I keep seeing the ugly, fallen, wayward, miserable parts of his life--and then seeing his love for me, Kim and Melia.  The love for us shines through so purely, so unmarred.  But it is shining through all sorts of grit and grime.
     My best example of this is the last picture Melia took of him.  He was obese, pale, and miserable.  He was so sick looking, that it is not surprising to me that this is the last picture of him ever taken--he looked like death.  But he was down on two knees, stretching his arms out, professing his undying love for her.  She photographed the moment, and it was a little joke between them that she shared with me the weekend of the funeral.
     This is my dad in a nutshell--his love peeking out through the clouds of darkness.
     As St. John of the Cross says, "In the eve of life, we will be judged on love."  If I were my Dad's advocate before Christ the judge, I would bring this photo.  What an amazing testament to the real Randall A. Kreiling.

The Death of my Dad

     Anyone could see that his death coming, because his health was so bad and his emotional state declining so rapidly in the past year.  It was hard to start letting go of him well before he actually died, but I saw that it was his choice to shield me from his deterioration, and so I accepted that and considered it a gift he was trying to give me.  While he died of a sudden heart attack, there was nothing out of the blue about it.
     I have much gratitude for the ways I see God giving me treasures at every turn.  I am grateful that Dad's death was as dignified as it was; I am grateful that we buried him in the manner and location that he desired; I am grateful that all his children and all his grandchildren were present (no small feat!); I am grateful that his ex-wives were all there (a tremendous display of love and forgiveness).  I am grateful that obstacles I could sense coming were dissolved, and personal conflicts averted.  I am grateful that the funeral service was more loving, faithful and capturing his life more than I could have anticipated.  I am grateful, most of all, for the bedrock of love that I feel from him.  Despite his failures, his love for me and my sisters is unsurpassed, and this love is part of the strength that I carry with me everyday.
     The trial I now face, however, is that he died, not right with God.  While I have hope that God will be merciful upon him, remember Dad's past love for God and forgive Dad's abandoning the way of this love, I sense poignantly how much mercy this would take, and how awful it is to die out of favor with God.  Death is so stark and real and miserable.  How tragic to die, or for your loved ones to die, at best gone forever, at worst, living in eternal torture.  (How fascinating that other people think they can just imagine what they wish happens after death, and think that will then in fact happen!  Who is in charge of death?  Not us!)  I understand the struggles of faith--humility is hard; obedience is hard; I know these struggles.  But it seems better to me to live as a Christian and struggle as a Christian with the issues that beset you, than to leave the family of God, and think you have somehow found higher ground.  That higher ground will dissolve under your feet the day that death comes.
     What I wish for everyone whom I love--and I desperately wish this--is that they would get right with God.  I wish that they would pray: "Jesus, I give my life to you.  I want to be a child of God.  I put my heart and life into your hands: I want intimacy with you."  Then, get a Bible and a Christian who has a real, vital relationship with God.  Follow what the Bible and the Christian in what they say, as you begin your new life.  You will be transformed from the inside out, and be given a fresh, vibrant spirit.  Your sins will dissolve; they will be thrown "as far as the east is from the west."  Truly, being reborn in God is the only way to get out of their grip!  As you begin your transformed life, you will find a peace, joy and contentment for which every human heart yearns.
   

Flowers from Mom

     Flowers from Mom are not an unusual event.  But these are!

 
     These are not cut flowers--it is a rose bush from my favorite local nursery!  I am SO EXCITED!!  I was in tears, standing on my front door step.  The poor delivery guy wasn't sure how to handle it! :)  Now I get to throw on my gardening duds and dig in the dirt!  Hooray!!!!
     The card said, "May these roses always remind you of my love."  I can assure you, they will!!!  :)

Full and Festive

     An odd family, I know.  We are strange!  Jake is about to write a report on a day in the life of his family, and we laughed about how fun it will be to write that, since we are just so darn strange compared to most families!  Things like, "While my sister Clare is regularly seem swinging from the chandeliers, she is also the most polite kid in the entire church every Sunday."
     Halloween is no exception.  It epitomizes just how counter-cultural we are!  That said, the culture is so impoverished, who'd want to be in the middle of THAT culture??
     "Halloween" is short and adapted for "All Hallows Eve."  "All Hallows" means "All Saints," ultimately meaning "The Eve before All Saints Day."
     Years ago in Ireland, a custom began: children would dress up in silly or scary costumes to scare the evil spirits away, in order to make the world pure for the next day's sacred celebration.  Treats were given out to clear away mean spirits, as though the sweets were an antidote to evil.  So the custom of dressing up on the evening before All Saints Day (always Nov. 1) and passing out treats derives from this Irish custom.  The deterioration of this custom into an evening for evil per se is an absolute disordering of the original purpose: it was meant to be a night to cleanse the world of evil, not invite evil in.
     In our family, when Halloween approaches, our kids start deliberating: "What SAINT shall I be this year?"  We have All Saints parties (thank you, Louisiana Friends, for introducing me to this wonderful custom!).  The main focus in our home, as it used to be centuries ago, is the celebration of All Saints Day.  This, more than sweets, is an effective antidote to all the evil that our culture flirts with on this evening.  This year, our kids were St. Veronica, St. Elizabeth Ann Seton, St. Elizabeth of Hungary, and St. Padre Pio.

Our Sacred Heart Homeschooling Group had a big party with games based on religious themes, and it was the high point of my Fall.
     But then our family also trick or treats.  They dress up as fairies and knights and the like, collect candy, and just have fun.    This year they were a lilac fairy, a Muskateer, a "Girl-with-Face-Paint-in-a NON-ITCHY-Costume" (Hello, Sensory Processing Disorder!) and a Frost Fairy.

     Now that All Saints Day has passed, our kids' minds and hearts are full of stories from Sacred Scripture, stories of people who enjoyed unspeakable raptures of joy in God as well as suffered untold amounts of pain for the sake of the Cross, and whose bellies are fully of candy.
    (No wonder we now have the stomach flu!  Padre Pio, Elizabeth of Hungary, Veronica, and Elizabeth Ann Seton, pray for us!)  :)