Love - Relationships and Fathers' gifts to us - Vol 4 - #21 - Sam Finkelstein and baby Joe

Today's Picture to Ponder Photo
Father Sam and Baby Joe Finkelstein in early 1963
                  
Belatedly acknowledging Father's Day in the US, I share this photo with you for the love that it exudes - a father's love and admiration mirrored in the face of our firstborn. It's also a reminder for me that "love is eternal."
                  
Self-Reflecting Queries
Given this past Sunday was the first Father's Day that our beloved Sam was no longer with us, I somewhat disregarded it. When I opened some of the Father's Day celebration emails from various of the ezines to which I subscribe, I had the thought that I, too, should acknowledge it for you, my subscribers who are so special to me.
                  
Other obligations and some lethargy had me ignore it. At the same time this photo of Sam and Joe kept surfacing in my memory, so I'm acting on instinct and sharing it with you.
                  
For those among you who are fathers, I hope you had a great day. For all of you who chose to acknowledge your fathers, I hope that love and empowerment was there.                   

If you have not already done so, I invite each one of you to tap into at least one image of love that you have. How can you use that to empower you?
                     
Relationships
I'm finding as I'm writing here that I am becoming quite pensive. Looking at what I wrote above, it would seem that there might have been something amiss between me and my father, who has been gone for 21 years. I went back into my files to see what I wrote and read at his funeral and I found something I wrote a few weeks after, as I was grieving. I share it with you now in the event that it might help one or more of you.
                   
It also relates to something I wrote yesterday when grieving Sam's loss and feeling guilty about some remembered behaviors of mine. I once again went to Haiku and one line sticks with me, "There is no do over" (Six syllables, I now see, not five)
                   
REFLECTIONS (on my me and my father)                   

I didn’t believe he wouldn’t make it, but
I gave him what he wanted at the end--
My presence and taking care of Laura.

Could he have given me what I wanted?
Turning off the TV?
Coming out of the bedroom (in October)?
Talking?
Sharing feelings?
Asking about me?
Giving me a hug that had squeeze and feeling?

Could he have, if I had asked?

Could he have given me what I needed,
If I knew what it was. . .
And had the courage to ask?

I thought not, so I didn’t!
                   
Thoughts and questions expressed and asked of myself almost  2 weeks too late.
                     
Sheila Finkelstein,  3/8/87
                     
Twenty-one years later, I know that he could have/would have proudly given me all that I never asked. Remember, "There is no do over." If you see yourself in any of the above, in relationship with anyone in your life, I invite you to ask the questions of the person, whoever comes to mind for you.
                   
In conclusion, at the end of what I spoke at my father's (Sam Bakely's) memorial service, I read,
                  
"In a condolence conversation, his and my mother’s beloved doctor described him as a gift:
                  
-  a gift to him, the doctor, who never knew such a patient-doctor relationship;
-  the gift to my husband of me;
-  and the gift to me is that in so many good and strong ways, and weak ones too, I am my father!

For him, for me and for us--I thank you all for your gift of love in being here today."
                       
Lastly, I invite you to find the positive attributes  in yourself that emanated from your father's love for you. What is your father's gift to you? You might also query, "What is your gift (not from a store) to your father?"
                     
Thank you for your gift of "listening."                                                   

Comments

[Debii]

My father died when I was eight years old, so we didn't have a very long relationship in the physical world. I remember feeling very close to him, but not much else. But I believe life to be eternal, and we have had a continuing relationship these past 50 years. In contrast to "there is no do over", I think we get to do it again and again until we get it right - kind of like the movie "Groundhog Day". I'm sure both Sam and your dad have been with you during this time - after all, they have been in your thoughts!!!

[Lauren Strouse]

What a beautiful photograph - it is absolutely stunning! The love reflected between father and son literally radiates from this little black and white frozen moment in time. I think this is one of the loveliest columns you have ever written Sheila. I thank you for sharing so much of yourself and providing such meaningful "food for thought."

[Sheila Finkelstein]

Debii,

Thank you so much for your thoughtful response. I appreciate the feedback am glad that you have, in some way, continued to have a relationship with your father.

The "do over" to which I was particularly referring were some very angry words with which I had battered Sam. Though they were reactive, in frustration with the impact of Parkinson's on him and he understood, I still found it inexcusable that I did this. I felt really sad when I heard a replay on an unintentional recording - words and tones that could not be erased, though the MP3 could be.

And, for me, the consolation I have, is that no matter how I treated him, Sam would always respond to my, "I love you" with his own, "I love you" back. He was truly a special man!

[Sheila Finkelstein]

Lauren,

Thank you for your kind, warm and generous comments about the photo of Sam and Joe and on my writing.

I deeply appreciate your words, feelings and acknowledgment.

[Morgine Jurdan]

My father died when my daughter was about 2 1/2 and my son about 6 months old, about 37 years ago. He left me many gifts. He was an artist and creator. He taught industrial design: how to design a new car, a stereo, a mixer ... and then re-design everything inside to fit the new outside! He turned down some lucrative jobs because he would have had to give up teaching which was his passion and he refused to give that up. He spent most of his time involved in his work because it nourished him. I am just beginning, at 58 to learn the importance of this lesson When I would ask a question, he always asked me what I had already tried first. He wanted me to experiment with things until I become stuck He was not ready with pat answers. He told me I could learn anything I wanted as long as I could read and have a library card He taught himself many things this way, and invented other things. He did not give up easily. He also felt women could do just about anything a man could and taught my sister and mother and I how to make our own stepping stones from cement, do cement work and make walls and stairs, paint, work on cars .. back in the 50's. He gave me a thirst for knowledge and learning. He had physical challenges of psoriasis and bursitis which the doctors had nothing for and often he was in pain and itching and would drink and become drunk. Yet despite the pain of those moments, I most remember all the rest, which still is serving me today. THANKS for the reminders!
Love, Morgine

[Shellie G Fraddin]

Dearest Sheila, We've been friends since I moved to FL and we shared a seminar together. Yet, you never cease to impress me with the depth of your feelings and insights. You are a gift to me.
This photo of Sam and Joe moved me to tears, as does your poignant writing. This photo touched my heart deeply to see Sam and Joe together that way, and I felt their mutual love and your overwhelming energy around them.
Thank you for continuing to share your joys, your grief and your introspection with all of us. Your words and photos are truly provocative, inspiring and deeply touching me. Thank you for being my friend. Can't wait to spend time in Sedona together. Much love always, Shellie

[Dean Evans]

Dear Sheila,

Thanks for stopping by the other day and getting me back on track with your Picture's to Ponder. This one of your husband Sam, your son's father, and my patient, was a beautiful reminder of the wonderful mystery and blessing we have in relationships. We develop from God's thought, through our parent's desire, and by the miracle of birth, to infant, child, man, father, all the while being drawn to learn and reflect the perfect and unconditional love of our heavenly Father. What greater opportunity than in family.
God bless.
Dean