That one was for you, dad
By Alana
My dad died a year ago today. I'm still so grateful for all the folks who were with me last year when I got that call at work and found out. I'll never forget your support - the hugs, the words, sitting close and holding me, teaching my class for me.
Last year after dad passed, I reflected on five lessons about teaching I learned from him. It's hard to believe it's already been a year. Seems wrong, somehow, that time keeps chugging along when my world has changed so dramatically.
My therapist says you never 'get over' grief; it just changes. I still encounter unexpected triggers - just last weekend I watched a bride dance with her dad at her wedding and realized I'm never going to have that. But I've also had so many beautiful conversations with folks who've gone through loss like this and learned so much.
One piece of wisdoms stands out - my old boss Elaine told me that after losing her dad, she'd use his memory as a compass when making tough decisions. Big or small, didn't matter what the stakes were, but throughout her life she'd make choices and think 'that one was for you, dad.’
I've found it a helpful way to feel close to my dad. Here are some of the times when I've thought 'that was for you dad' over the last year:
when I launched my website, taught pro-bono classes for local nonprofits, ran a fundraiser, and built a ton of educational resources with my business partner. Dad was cynical by the end of his teaching career, but deep down he fervently believed that education is integral to changing the world for the better.
when I finish a great book and then peer pressure friends to read it. Dad and I did this, knowing the chat we'd have later was always worth it.
when I made big changes in my work life to better take care of my mental health. My dad left more than one job because of a poor fit (or sometimes because he'd ruffled too many feathers in his pro-union, loudly opinionated way).
every time I power through a run I don't want to be on. My dad was an all or nothing guy, powered by implacable will. He quit smoking and drinking cold turkey and his runs would last 'until he was tired.' 'It's hard' was never a reason for him not to do something.
when I worked with a friend to launch KO Yoga, a non-profit that offers free yoga and pays teachers well. Dad was an idealist and communist and believed in a world where stuff that's good for you should be free.
The list goes on. And as I continue to forge my way in a world without him, I’m grateful to have his memory nudging me along in choices both big and small.
