Whether it's your first Bonnaroo or you’re a music festival veteran, we welcome you to Inforoo.
Here you'll find info about artists, rumors, camping tips, and the infamous Roo Clues. Have a look around then create an account and join in the fun. See you at Bonnaroo!!
Post by lordrockinhood on Oct 3, 2007 23:07:16 GMT -5
Today, after a 3 year fight to the finish with cancer, I lost the strongest kindest, greatest man I will ever get the honor to know. At 11:30 this morning, my father passed away. The whole time until the end, he was able to live inside his sickness on his own terms, the way he wanted to. If he said he wanted to do it, my mom let him and he did, and then 5 days ago, his body finally gave out. Then, last night is when it happened i think, with all of us together, we were all finally able to convince him that we were gonna all be okay and he did what he needed, and got ready to let go.
I don't know if it was a prayer, or a wish, or what you'd call it, but last night I asked the powers that be to give him the strength to relax, and even more importantly, not to let him die alone. And not much could mean more than this to me in my life... my sister got there at 10AM this morning. She put on the Honeymooners and he got to hear that classic live big band sitcom music, and the legendary joke deliveries of the cast... of Mr. Jackie Gleason. And then, an hour and a half later, with my sister by his side, he let himself go and found peace. I won't tell the rest of the story here, but I will say this...
The Rolling Stones said it best, the song keeps playing in my head... I want my Dad back, but I can't have that... but for some beautiful reason, all day today, me, and my whole family, were given everything we needed to get though such a heartbreakingly difficult time. We even all laughted more than a few times. Actually, I think my whole life has been like that, and I think I still have the faith that the rest of it will be too.
After talking about this all day, it's nice to sit here peacefully and contemplate and type in quiet. I like you all, you make me laugh, and you give me a place to go that isn't all around me, but is now a part of my life. It feels good to talk about it here. We may all argue and bicker, but the second someone needs some serious backing up... we are all there in an instant to help out our cyber friend. If i didn't think it before, (though I did,) when I randomly checked this sight before leaving work to go be with my dad for one of the last times on Monday afternoon, and I saw what Alyroo wrote (my heart goes out to you,) and then all of your wonderful responses that came from the heart... well it helped me a lot too, I mean, wherever we all are, there is a reason we are all in each other's lives when we are here... (and Spooky, your quote helped my entire family out today, I couldn't have read them anything more... um, I can't find the word. Thank you. Thank all of you, and all because of Bonnaroo Time has been endless lately, but tonight, i think i may get some rest... I love my Dad, he was 74
Lordrockinhood, I too am very sorry for your loss. It is always hard to lose a parent but at least you have the comfort of knowing that he did it his way and is in a place of unimaginable beauty. I dont know where the following poem came from, but it was passed onto me when my dad died and it has always meant alot...I hope it gives you the same peace it gave me.
Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there, I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on the snow. I am sun on ripened grain, I am the gentle Autumn rain. When you wake in the morning's hush I am the swift uplifting rush of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there, I did not die.
My dad also died of cancer 10 days after his 74th birthday. He decided he was ready and asked us to pray with him. I was there holding his hand as he went. Your dad, like mine, sounds like a great man.
Cherish the memories, embrace your family and know we are all thinking and praying for you today. We love ya, brother.
You are in my heart and my thoughts and prayers. Your dad sounds like he was a great man and your mom sounds like a great woman to have let your dad do what he wanted to!
Post by stallion pt. 2 on Oct 4, 2007 11:34:23 GMT -5
Wow, when it rains it pours around here. Just remember he is free from this plastic hassle we call life and has gone on to something better. Stay strong.
John: We don't even understand our own music Spider: It doesn't, does it matter whether we understand it? At least it'll give us . . . strength John: I know but maybe we could get into it more if we understood it
May you always get what you need.... And I am so glad your dad got what he wanted....the chance to live - and die - with dignity the way he chose. May we all be so blessed. My thoughts, love, and prayers of healing will be with you and your family, and with Aly, and everyone dealing with the recent loss of a loved one. The holidays are going to be rough this year for a lot of us....
Post by lordrockinhood on Oct 4, 2007 22:11:16 GMT -5
So this is a nice story, I think. Okay, so for years my parent’s house has had this answering machine message. My dad recorded it. It is extremely enunciated, and this is how it goes… “We are unable to take your call. Please leave your name and number, and we will call you back.” Then, he suddenly seems to get agitated, and the message goes on, and this is what I always thought it said… “aaargh, where’s stop.” The end. Okay, so I called my house last Friday, and it went to the machine for the first time in a long time, since lately, there’s always been someone home, and anyway, of course I didn’t leave a message, I just called my mom’s cell phone. She was in the ambulance. Anyway, that’s not why I am telling this story. The last time I saw my father, he was still warm. We were all saying goodbye, and I brought up the answering machine. I told the story I just told. And we all agreed about the agitation in the end… except for my big sister Nancy. She chimes right in, “No, he is saying ‘Press Set’,” so we are all like, “What?” So she goes on, “He wasn’t agitated at all, he was reading the instructions and the last step said to ‘Press Set.’” And that is what it was, we used my sister’s cell to call up the house, we put it on speaker, and lo’ and behold, that IS what he said. Leave it to my Dad, always making sure he does everything right. I can’t say it enough, I love my Dad! We will save that answering machine forever. It's all about voice mail these days anyway, and we will teach my mom how that works. Thanks again everyone, your words mean a lot.
I have a small cassette that came out of my old answering machine. It has both my mom and my dad who are both deceased on it. I cant tell you how many times I have listened to my dad say "Hello there, this is the Grandpa" Cherish it.
;D
