She screamed, “Margie, Your father is DEAD.”
It was Christmas Day, 2013. I saw my father for the 1st time in about 2 or 3 years. My heart stopped dead in its tracks. I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was unreal how much my father had aged. He was swollen, sad, and broken. I didn’t believe him 2 years prior when he told me that he was sick.
I pulled him aside and gave him his present. My boyfriend, Maciek, had put together a collage of pictures in a nice frame for him. I thought it was cheesy and I didn’t want to give it to him. He made me do it. He kept making sure that Maciek is a good guy and that he will take care of me. He was giving him permission to take me because he knew his life was almost over.
My dad started weeping when I gave it to him and we shared a very long cry together. I embraced him for the first time, truly. I had no more anger and hate towards him like I used to my whole life. But, I did feel like I needed to save him. I couldn’t let him die.
I taught him how to meditate and vowed to call him every morning. I told him I would come see him every week on Tuesdays. I ended up calling once, he didn’t pick up and I gave up. I went and saw him twice before he died. It was so hard, actually going. I would cry the whole way there.
6 months after he passed, I was looking back through my old journals, I saw that the last positive encounter with him, he was in a great mood. I remember the day so clearly. His smile. His energy. He shined light, he had ideas, he was motivated and he was going to go get a job. He wrote down my Netflix account and I saw that he watched the Secret. We ate some greek yogurt parfaits I made and he loved it. He ate it so fast. I don’t know if he had eaten in days. That was the day before my birthday. He didn’t want to upset me on my birthday. That was my gift.
I went back one more time and he wasn’t feeling good. It was cut short and I think he was drunk. This was the last time I saw him. He left the door open for the first time, since the family split up and I had the opportunity to look inside. I was way too scared. I chose not to. I chose to not see the dark. I chose to run from how bad it was. I chose to resist.
After that day, my business partners told me we needed to change up our agreement we had as the manager of our yoga studio. I knew it was coming, but I had no experience in managing a yoga studio. I wasn’t sure what I wanted and I knew that I wanted to be travelling and speaking, not teaching yoga every damn day.
That took me almost 2 months to negotiate with them, and I had 4 days off a week. I could go down to my dad’s once a week and help him get the house together. I wanted to buy it from him. I wanted to let him live there and not have to worry about bills. Basically, save him, which by the way, never works. You can’t change people. You can’t do things for them, it takes away their power. It turns them into a fucked up version of what your ego wants.
It was May, 5 months after I saw my dad. I was going to go down to Bradenton and clean out the house Saturday, the next day. The house I grew up in my entire life. All of my memories, all of my family’s belongings, sitting, collecting dust. There was a flood. There were tragic things that went down in the house since the family split 3 years before. I had told the universe I was ready to open pandora’s box. Oh and boy, does the universe work in mysterious ways.
I woke up to my phone ringing at about 7am. My mom was hysterical. I said hello, mom why are you calling, what’s going on? And she screamed, “Margie, Your father is DEAD.” She was hysterical. My whole body went numb. My world went black. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t move, I couldn’t speak. All I could do was shake. I started screaming until, I finally fell to the floor on my knees, bawling. I couldn’t do anything. Maciek didn’t have to say a word, he knew. He knew I had told my brother just days before, “Andrew, Dad is going to die soon”. We knew. My dad had even went to see my mom and apologized for everything just a couple weeks before.
We had just dropped off Maciek’s car at the shop and it was too early to go pick it up. All we had was the scooter. It was a long ride, 45 minutes. But looking back, it was a ridiculously beautiful sunrise in the middle of spring. The wind was perfect, the temperature just right. I had no idea what I was going to do or say. I just felt lost. How could I have just rekindled my relationship with him and now he is dead? But I was supposed to go there tomorrow and save him. Why did he have to die so quick? Why didn’t he want help? Why didn’t we do all the things we said we were going to do, like get him to go to rehab?
The questions flooded my mind, like wild fire. I couldn’t handle it. I stopped and took a deep breath. It’s okay. He is happy now. He is with God. He is out of pain.
I watched him get taken out of the house. I hugged my family close and cried so hard. I didn’t want to go inside of the house. I hadn’t addressed the pain and suffering of my childhood yet. I was the only one who hadn’t gone inside yet. They were not surprised. But ME, I lost it. I couldn’t understand how someone could have lived like this. How they couldn’t be happy. How they could isolate themselves from the beautiful world?
Everything was a mess, except that picture frame I gave him for Christmas. That picture frame was sitting there, spotless, in the middle of the room. I could tell he spent time there with us, his family. Everything layered with years of dust. Except an altar of family memoirs. He loved us so much.
I went to see a spirit guide a few days after and she told me that he always knew I was the wise one of the family, the avatar. He knew I would go far and inspire the world. He knew I was going to change the world since I was a baby. I understood things that other kids didn’t. I dreamed bigger than most people and I could sense danger. He mentioned again that he wanted me to have the ring. I still don’t know what ring it was, especially since most of the belongings from the house were stolen by my family. And as the executor of the estate, I did not want to fight.
I stood up and took responsibility for my father and his debts. I cleaned up his mess and I can say that my lawyer wrote me today, I co-own the house with my brother. Merry Christmas to me. I never thought I would a. own my first house this way b. still have to deal with this house. But I never cleared my skeletons, and the universe is making me do it.
Now I know that the problem was that he did not love himself. And all I want is to get through this with love, and here I am sitting alone on Christmas Eve. I haven’t spoken to my mother or brother in 2 months. But the truth is, that I am happy again. I love the shit out of myself.
That is what I have learned in this journey of uncovering my father’s mystery, self-love. True, fear-busting, living in darkness, face my problems head-on so I can get to that unconditional self-love
I accidentally made the intention of wanting to UNDERSTAND what my dad went through. I went through all of his notes from when he was dying. His handwriting got really bad over time. He had papers on codependency, alcoholism, God and depression. While trying to mend the wounds of his life, I gave in to the pressure. I spiraled. I depended. I actually felt what he felt. Like literally, FELT all of it. I hated myself. I isolated myself in my apartment and wouldn’t leave. I was only teaching 1 hour per week and it was exhausting to even do that.
Now I know how important it is to make intentions that say what you actually want. The language has to portray what you want to manifest. Instead of choosing the words of understanding what he went through, I could have decided to see the situation for what it is and release the pain. If I went back, I would have said I allow myself to feel the pain of loss and release it to be healed. I will learn the lesson and move on.
Here are all the wonderful ways my dad has affected my life. I made this video for the service that I put together for him. It was a tribute, and a message he wanted to share with the world, but he was too scared to do. Now that I am here, right now, above all other things he brought to my life, this blog is the true blessing. This blog is freeing me in a way that I have never experienced. God is speaking through me. I have surrendered. He is always with me.
I no longer worry about what people think, my purpose is to serve. God no longer lets me play small. He no longer lets me worry. I have surrendered to the divine plan of my miracle career. For my peace and the world, I choose love. Through forgiveness, I see myself free from the world I projected. I will be healed as I let him teach me to heal. Everyone has this power. Everyone has this purpose, it is a matter of tapping into it. Start with your breath.