Cher

My Beloved Father passed away four months and one day ago today.  I can’t begin to describe how my life has changed since that day.  Of course, there are the obvious changes.  But then there’s the growth in my Warrior Spirit as I unfearfully prepare to face Goliath (I won the battle, but the war is far from over).  There are the thoroughly unexpected changes in my personal life.  There are the changes in my perspective and my attitude and my outlook and everything else. 

My heart turned stone cold when my Dad’s did.

My interest in others withered during those two months of solitude after I returned from California.

My hope died when Sunshine did.

And then I got a Cher ticket.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As a child, I wanted three things:

1.    To be a writer.

2.    To go to Paris.

3.    To be Cher.

  

I’ve been writing in one way or the other since I was five.  The future my Dad left me is one in which I can write in the way I’ve always wanted (creatively). 

I had my fill of academic writing around 1994, after the publication of my first Statistics textbook.  The publisher pulled it after a year, as it was out-selling all of the other stats texts and the “more established” authors were upset.  “You’re so talented, we know you’ll be successful.  Just not here,” the publisher told me as it ended my five-year contract four years early.  How many times have I heard that??

But I digress.

I got to go to Paris in 2008.

And then…in my darkest moment, right when I accepted that my happiest days were behind me…a ticket to see Cher in concert appeared right before my very eyes.

I LIVED for The Sonny & Cher Comedy Hour on Sunday nights.  No matter how bad my Mama was raging, she always stopped for The Sonny & Cher Comedy Hour (she always stopped for Laugh-In, too…and Mork and Mindy) and we would laugh and sing and have a wonderful time.

By the time I was old enough to attend concerts, Cher wasn’t touring.  When she started touring again, I was in a different universe.  She announced her FINAL tour right when I swung out of the Two Felony Tango. 

That whole last 40 hours in the hospital, as I was watching my Dad die and praying for the strength to do the right thing and make the right decisions and GOD PLEASE HELP ME KEEP IT TOGETHER THIS IS MY DAD WE’RE TALKING ABOUT HERE AND MY ACTIONS ACTUALLY MATTER I kept hearing in the back of my mind:  “You make it through this; you’ll see Cher.  You make it through this; you’ll see Cher.” 

It was my Dad’s voice and so I kept going through hell. 

And then last Saturday night, I was in the same theater as someone I’ve admired since I was 2. 

It only took two shuttles, two plane rides, one near-miss, 13 hours of travel, and a missive from The Knight to Goliath.

In addition to everything else.

~ ~ ~ ~

Like I said, the battle with Goliath is far from over.  I see how naïve it was for me to think it would stand down after that swift kick to the nuts.  Now the beast is enraged and it’s coming at me and my house full force. 

I’m not scared. 

I saw Cher live in concert, something I gave up on a long time ago.  Now I feel like I can achieve anything.

It’s not “getting the stuff” (although the stuff is really cool) that’s making me feel empowered; it’s that Life really IS about living in the overflow.  Life didn’t abandon me.  I’m not cut loose, floating randomly in the Universe.  Yes, crap happens and Life isn’t easy but it isn’t crappy 100% of the time.  Even those last 40 hours in the hospital were not 100% pure torturous agony each and every nanosecond.

It’s in those still, small moments of non-crap that the seeds of blessing are planted.

In those still, small moments of reaching out to God when my Dad was dying, the seeds of my future blessings were planted. 

In those still, small moments of experiencing Bucket List #1 this past weekend I KNOW the seeds of my victory over Goliath were planted.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

My Dad’s solution to life’s troubles was jazz.  If troubles got tough, the solution was live jazz.  If troubles got really tough, the solution was a trip to NYC.

You know where I’m going next.

God Winked

So The Bank (inappropriately) seized all of my and my Dad’s liquid assets; accused me of theft; refused to pay some of his final expenses; refused to honor his final wishes; and made a move to remove me from my home.  That’s what’s been going on in the three months and 23 days since My Beloved Father passed away. 

No, I haven’t been “living it up,” partying on “all of that money” he left me. 

Quite the opposite.

It is a daily battle with Goliath to honor my Father’s wishes, keep what’s mine, and do what he wanted with the rest.

But that’s not what I want to talk about. 

I don’t even want to talk about the sheer, abject panic I’ve been living in, either…other than to say that it was the WORST panic EVER.  Not when I was “lost” in jail; not when I was in jail; not when that (former) assistant DA stated in court that he would make it his life’s goal to put me in jail did I panic this hard.

Not when I ordered the breathing tube out of my Beloved Father did I panic this hard.

What I DO want to talk about is how God literally winked at me in literally my darkest moment.  

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The harbinger came when my family visited and saw the battle up close and personal.  They fed me and made it so I could have a hot shower and recharged my dangerously low batteries.  That was on Monday.

The Knight wrote a letter to Goliath for me, outlining my concerns.  I sent it on Tuesday.

On Wednesday, my Beloved Kitty Sunshine needed immediate veterinary care.  Thoroughly strapped, I asked for help.  Grasshopper and the vet pulled together in such a beautiful way to get my Sunshine the care he needed I felt hopeful for the first time since the five-alarm fire in my Dad’s apartment complex that started this whole cycle.

Thursday morning, the vet called to inform me that my Beloved Sunshine inexplicably died in his sleep.

Friday morning, right before I woke up, I dreamed that God asked me for a sit-down.  He had the face of The Preacher and the body of the Lincoln Memorial.  

"I see you've been struggling," He said, sitting across the table from me.  "Look at this letter you wrote a few years ago," and He showed me an actual letter I had actually written (about #3) and burned in my actual fireplace.  "I know you have a crush on Me," God said.  And then He winked at me.  

I woke up KNOWING I was in for the wildest ride yet.

 

Before noon, I was sitting in my Dad’s car in the parking lot of the pawn shop, ready to hock my Beloved Headphones for gas money, when I decided to check my e-mail. 

And what to my wondering eyes did appear but an e-mail from Goliath stating that some of my cash – enough to stabilize myself and Jitterbug and obtain Bucket List Item #1, which I PROMISED myself during those last 40 hours with my Dad I would obtain if I made it through those last 40 hours with my Dad – was being transferred that day. 

I immediately texted The Knight to tell him his letter worked!  I ended with one of my typically sarcastic comments:  “Do you have $100 I could borrow until Monday?  You know I’m good for it.  I’d like to take myself out for a nice steak dinner.”

His response is forever imprinted on my heart.  Suffice it to say I had a lovely steak dinner, I didn’t have to pay him back, and I didn’t have to hock my Beloved Headphones.

Saturday at 6:00 a.m., the cash was available and I was (finally) on my way toward the future my Beloved Father planned for me.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

To be clear, the fight with Goliath is far from over, but at least now it knows with whom it’s dealing.  At least now I know with what I’m dealing. 

And I have help.  Help that I trust.  Help whose eyes are not blinded by jealousy or pettiness or any other type of interpersonal BS.  Help that actually, truly sees me for who I actually, truly am.  Help that helps without question or interrogation or expectation.  Help that helps from the heart.  Help that helps just like my Dad would. 

To everyone I unintentionally offended during my panic, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean it the way you took it.  Know that The Knight got it worse than any of you. 

And he stuck by me. 

In fact, he increased his participation, understanding the actual situation.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When God winks at you, be prepared.  Be prepared for your fondest and most deeply held wishes – the ones you’ve had since you were a child and slowly gave up on as Life progressed – to be granted.  Be prepared for all of that stuff you half-heartedly agree to during service on Sundays to be displayed right before your very eyes in the most beautiful way possible.  Be prepared to be shocked and awed.  Be prepared to have your brain reformatted.  Be prepared to fall in love with a situation you DESPISE because God uses it to give you your heart’s desire.