Day 26th at the Kushi Institute

One of the reasons I came to the Kushi was for me to learn how to cook and advise people who were suffering with cancer because my father had died of bone cancer and I couldn't help him.  I intentionaly arrived here on his 70th birthday as a tribute to my father.  I did not make it to his bedside before he past and I did not get to tell him how much I loved him and how much he hurt me before he left.  I kept numb through most of the funeral and did not acknowledge the fact that he was gone.  I've kept it on the back burner while I kept on running y clinic and dealing with every day responsibilities.  I have tried to talk to my father since he past away, but to no avail.  I have not heard his voice or his spirit around me.  I was hoping that since I had gotten away to here that I would be able to hear his voice.  I don't know if it is because I am so busy in the kitchen working or trying to go to as many classes as I can but I have not been able to hear his voice.  The one voice I have heard is me thinking about the items that I am mad at  my father at run through my head asking why he did what he did and could he please explain himself.  I am starting to wonder if maybe it is my job to release him of my bitter anger and the list of offenses I have against him before I will feel his love around me. 
I have to tell you that my shield of self rightousness that I have covered myself with is very thick and made out of pure stainless steel so nothing can stick to my part of the problem but just their's.  With it on I get to stay a hurt child that doesn;t take responsibility  to her part, but when the shield comes off I have to deal with that I am almost 50 years old and I have to realize that my father did the best he could and that he was human just as I am and that it is my job to let go of the hurts because he is not here he is not suffering with his bowels I am.  it is physically hurting me and only ME and my children will have issues about me and how I was as a mother and hopefully they will be gentle and loving and not a venous viper like I have been spouting all my rage at my stupid injustices that I experienced.  I am hoping that I will move on and I will here my dad in the wind or the rustly of the trees or the cancer patients that I could help.  Maybe I will be able to remember his loving side and some of the great memories instead of it being clouded in my muck.