The fact that I’m posting these words as a blog makes it irreversible. No backing out now. Jeff and I are moving to Arizona. And if you enjoyed my blogs about our “Here’s yew a dawg” trip, you’re gonna want to keep your eyes on this space because it promises to be fraught with typical Jeff and Lisa brand “good times and clusterfucks.”
There’s some sad stuff up front. My dad just died. What a horrible thing. I’ve had nightmares about this moment for years. I’d wake up from vivid dreams that my dad was DEAD and it was so real that I’d sit up in bed, wretching from crying so hard, and wracked with sobs for long minutes after I woke up because it was such an intense and horrific sense of loss. But when it actually happened, it didn’t hit me that hard. I was so relieved to stop seeing his body in that condition that I was blissfully relieved when we finally got that 2:20 AM phone call. That doesn’t mean I don’t fall apart in the grocery store or other inconvenient places, especially when they play Christmas music (which is starting insanely early this year). It does mean, however, that I’m able to be a lot more philosophical and Zen about his death than I thought I would be.
I have some pretty comforting spiritual views on this, which help. I’m sort of a “New Ager/Lightworker” type, but I don’t take myself as seriously as some of them do. Believe me, there are whacked out fundamentalist New Agers, just like there are in any other belief system. Some of us actually have our shit together and cringe when the fringe shows up in the news to make us all look crazy. Those spiritual views include the concept that death isn’t the end of life overall, just the end of life in the physical form. Life, free from the body, seems like a pretty groovy thing so death is only bad for those of us who are still alive and missing our dead folks.
Anyway, I have developed a pretty strong connection with my Dad, now that he’s on the other side. I didn’t expect that because I’ve never been very “lucky” communicating with the other side, even though I’ve tried for decades. Dad, on the other hand, thought psychic stuff was all “horseshit” so it’s surprising to see him so strongly reaching out from over there. But I know I’m getting messages from Dad, because less than a month after his death, I’m moving across the country to live near my mom because I think he’d really like it if I did. (I’d like it, too, or I wouldn’t be doing it, I’m just sayin’ … Dad is the one who nudged me into action).
I’ll maybe share a little about those messages in future blogs, but for now I don’t want to make this too long. It’s Thanksgiving Day and Jeff and I are relishing our last Thanksgiving in our Florida “Monkees’ Beach House.” (Jeff has, since he was a boy, wanted to live like the Monkees, in their groovy beach house. We have spent the last nine years living like that, in our own fashion, and it’s VERY hard to say goodbye to because it’s been delicious.)
But now that it’s been said aloud, let it be done. Here we go on another amazing journey! I hope you enjoy the trip as much as we will!