a faith observed: Roger Clark Lewis Day

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Roger Clark Lewis Day

Today, January 15, marks one year without my dad. It's been a long, hard year but it's gone by quickly, too. At times the grief knocks me over like a freight train. I cry until my whole body aches. But there are more moments when it almost seems unbelieveable, too tragic and horrible to accept, and I emotionally detach and busy myself with life.

Today was unpredictable. I didn't really know what to expect of myself and thought I'd just see what happened. The tears came, the sadness and emptiness and feeling depressed came. After talking to my mom on the phone, I took her advice and decided to think about the great things I loved about dad and the good memories that made Dad so special to us. From now on, January 15th is Roger Clark Lewis day and each year I'm going to spend the day doing things that remind me of Dad.

So we had pancakes and real maple syrup for breakfast. I played some hymns on the piano. We washed the car and played in the hose with Simon. We threw the baseball around, which Simon loved. We played trains with Simon. We talked about "pooh pooh" with Simon, who nearly did his first poo on the pot (Dad worked in the lab so pooh pooh was a common topic of conversation in our house.) Andrew got his toolbox out (a gift from my dad) and did some "projects". Simon loved the drill and spent about an hour "hammering" . We watched Roger Federer win his tennis match. And we took a walk tonight to the store to buy some vanilla icecream (at the end of the day, my dad's favorite kind). We thought about going to a gelatarium, but I knew my dad would have said, "You know, it's pretty expensive. We could go to the grocery store and buy a whole gallon for the same price!" So, that's what we did. And now I'll have some left for tomorrow night, too.

Tonight I won't tell you all the things I loved about dad. I'll save that for tomorrow (which is January 15th in the States). I'll end with words from the Psalms I read today, words my dad lived and died by.

"Forever I will sing the goodness of the Lord" (Psalm 89:1).

"Taste and see the goodness of the Lord" (Psalm 34:1).

"Praise the Lord for He is good" (Psalm 135:3).

We miss you, Dad, so much more than words or blogs could ever express. Thank you for your immeasurable love. I love you.

3 comments:

Cass said...: Today, and every day, I love you Liz.
I am thinking of you today and having a cry for you here, just now.
I'm so glad I had the privilege of meeting your wonderful father.; January 16, 2009 at 1:56 AM
Anonymous said...: Oh yes how we loved that Roger Clark Lewis!! What a wonderful man he was. What a great brother-in-law to me. Nahh... cross out that "in-law" part because he was my brother in every sense of the word.
So many delightful memories I have of that sweet and determined daddy of yours.
I'm so glad we live in an age of digital photography because you have so many fantastic photos of him that capture so many aspects of his personality. Simon will have those great and cherished pics of himself with the grandpa that he will not remember with his natural memory, but his spirit will know deeply.
I never knew my Gregory grandparents, yet through the marvelous stories my mother shared with me and even now through reading their writings and seeing the few photos I have of them, I "know" them deeply despite the lack of personal experience or memory. In the same way, Simon will know his grandpa - that wonderful Roger Clark Lewis - through the expressive writings of his loving mother, Roger's lovely and creative daughter, you my Liz.
I love you so much,
Aunt Judith; January 16, 2009 at 11:24 PM
Marge said...: You portray Dad so well, Liz. For sure you got your gift of expressing things from him! I enjoy reading...and I am sure I will enjoy re-reading...the things you remember about him and the joys that he impacted all of our lives with. I love you. Mom; January 19, 2009 at 3:21 AM

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This is me, a faith observed.

C.S. Lewis writes about the pain of losing his beloved wife, Joy, in his book, "A Grief Observed". In some ways this is my attempt to share my journey through grief and back into life, as the past nine months have been characterized by an immeasurable longing for my beloved father, who died suddenly this past January.

After months of hibernation from the internet, I unexpectedly find myself able to re-begin this blog and connect with my larger community of family and friends. This blog will likely reflect less of the intensity and depth of my pain and more of the simplicity and ordinary joy that keeps my life full - namely days running after our little boy, Simon Pierre. But it is because of the incredible love and presence that defined my relationship with my father, that I feel I can will myself to not just survive each day but to pour that same kind of love and attention onto Simon.

My father was an endless source of strength to me, a pillar of faith. His last words, spoken to my mother as he passed into that which is unseen, "God is good - good all the time", have remained with me through this dark cloud of grief. And when God seems hidden, when justice seems to be losing out, when life is unfair, and when death swallows up the one I most love, I remember my father's words and breathe in this promise, that the God of love is in the process of restoring that which has been destroyed.

And as my father told me in dream I've had since his death, "Look to Jesus. As a father, to point you towards Him is the best gift I can give to you." So here I am, this is me, a faith to be observed.

I hold onto that which is not always seen- the promise of God's goodness, the hope that one day in the promised new heavens and earth- on a grassy hill or a sand covered beach- the lion and the lamb will lie down side by side and I, too, will lie down side by side, next to my father, and we will laugh and laugh until there are no more tears left to cry.