A Struggling Daddy II

For about a month before my father passed on from his tormented world here on earth, I was having a lot of problems myself. I and many others truly felt my life in danger due to an escalated problem with someone that was spiraling out of control. At this time, I hadn't been real close to my Dad. Not really sure why, perhaps I could only handle one mentally ill parent at a time. Perhaps I held grudges for things that were'nt his fault. Either way, it was wasted time on my part. I have finally come to terms with this though. I cannot change the past. I can however learn from the past. My lesson learned taught to me by my Dad is to never take time with a person for granted. Treat every moment with every person you know as if it could be the last one shared. Speak every word with respect and never say something you would regret if it was the last word had with them. If I can pass that lesson on to just one person, I will be happy.

My Dad did not hold my ignorance against me. Despite the fact we hadn't been in much contact for quite some time, he called me everyday to make sure I was safe and sound. Sometimes we talked a couple times a day for that month or so. Sometimes we would talk for hours on the phone. I truly believe this was God's gift to both of us. At one point, about two weeks prior to his death, he began a conversation with me about what to do when he dies. I was so wrapped up in my own troubles I actually blew him off. I didn't pay close attention. For that, to this day, I carry a burden of guilt. It appeared he knew he was getting ready to pass on to his oasis, his eternity with God. My response was a mere-"you're young and healthy Dad, I don't want to talk about death and your arrangements, you'll be here for a long time to come." I couldn't have been more wrong. The lesson here: If someone you know appears to be making peace with his or her life, listen carefully to everything they have to say. Make peace with that person and accept their love as pure and every minute a gift from God.

The poem-or rather prayer my father wrote I've included as his words for day two of this short series leading up to the day of his death-July 7, 1999. I believe it was written in a moment of clarity. I also believe that to some extent he carried some guilt about his illness, which can be seen in the third to last line. His Schizophrenia has no blame though. It has no rhyme or reason. It is no one's fault he carried the burden of Schizophrenia. Schizophrenic sufferers have a kind of cycle where they are feeling well for a while, then spiral down into the darkness of the illness again. I believe he felt guilt for things he said and did when he was not well or not taking his medicine properly during his moments of clarity.

A Bedtime Prayer

Good night sweet Jesus, I'm going to bed,
gonna rest my body, gonna rest my head,
and if tomorrow I don't wake up,
pour living water into my cup.

I'm sorry I don't understand it all
but I know you died for me and for all.
I know you arose on the third day.
I love you jesus; you are the way.

Please help me Jesus grow strong for you
and fight my old ways now that I'm new.
Please help me Lord to give away
all of your love you give me each day.

-Thomas Razonski