In Remembrance of My Father

 Uncle Fritz, my dad, Aunt Peggy, and my grandmother, 1917

 My dad (far left) with his brother Fritz, sisters Roz & Peggy, and parents

Frederick Smith Strong, Jr. and Marjorie Ward Strong

Top row: Jack & Nancy Strong (my parents), Fritz & Mary Strong

Bottom Row: Rosamond Strong Fisher, "Sugar" & "Super" (my grandparents), 

Peggy Strong Russel

Dad with my twin, John, and myself, 1953

For My Dad, With Love and Gratitude...

My mother and I were talking on the phone today and I found myself reflecting on how Dad had died 38 years ago today. Mom began to cry and spoke of how sad that made her feel. Then I reflected on yes, sadness, and also on how there is so much to be grateful for. We are so blessed that my father was part of our lives. My mother agreed and grief began to shift to gratitude. So often they go hand in hand. 

My dad's death was sudden and unexpected. I was just 24 years old and had only moved to Oregon from Michigan a couple months earlier. When I did not hear from my parents for a while, I called home. It was then that I learned that my father had been hospitalized for two weeks and had nearly died. My parents had just recently vacationed in Alberta, Canada where they experienced the exquisite beauty of places like Banff and Lake Louise. Unknown to my parents until they had returned home was that my father had been bitten by a tick which gave him Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever. Within three months, on November 12th, 1975, my dad died. He was 60 years old.

I have learned in the many years since my father's death that grief denied cuts us off from our hearts. Sorrow and joy are inextricably woven. I could not begin to truly know and appreciate the many gifts my father blessed myself and others with until I began the long journey of opening, embracing, and healing my heart.

And my father gave me so much. No matter the obstacles and challenges which life brought to my dad and to our family, my father never lost his sweetness of spirit. My dad was kind, through it all he was kind. And as I moved deeper over the years of my healing journey into layer after layer of long neglected trauma, tragedy, and loss, I discovered the gifts that were always there, waiting, waiting to be discovered, understood, and ultimately - on the other side of so many tears - cherished. And I cherish my father. He gave me the gift of kindness, tenderness, compassion, and sweetness of heart. There are not many gifts greater than that. ♥

For my dad, John Ward Strong - "Jack" ...

On the Death of the Beloved

Though we need to weep your loss,
You dwell in that safe place in our hearts,
Where no storm or might or pain can reach you.

We look towards each other no longer
From the old distance of our names;
Now you dwell inside the rhythm of breath,
As close to us as we are to ourselves.

Though we cannot see you with outward eyes,
We know our soul’s gaze is upon your face,
Smiling back at us from within everything
To which we bring our best refinement.

Let us not look for you only in memory,
Where we would grow lonely without you.
You would want us to find you in presence,
Beside us when beauty brightens,
When kindness glows
And music echoes eternal tones.

When orchids brighten the earth,
Darkest winter has turned to spring;
May this dark grief flower with hope
In every heart that loves you.

May you continue to inspire us:

To enter each day with a generous heart.
To serve the call of courage and love
Until we see your beautiful face again
In that land where there is no more separation,
Where all tears will be wiped from our mind,
And where we will never lose you again.

- John O’Donohue