I think we’ve all been there. Déjà vu is an odd sensation. More uncanny though, in my book, was the description an old colleague of mine used to describe the sensation of “Vu Ja De”. He described vu ja de as being the opposite of déjà vu. Vu ja de could be used to describe the feeling one gets when entering a situation and experiencing ABSOLUTELY NO sense that you’ve done anything like this before. I thought vu ja de was an interesting play on words; I always found it amusing. I’ve always liked to compare and contrast opposites. (Black and white, Left and right, Stop and go)
Then came the winter of 2011/2012 when the mildest winter on record became the cruelest season of my life.
Meteorologically the past winter was the mildest on record for those of us residing at 44.88’ latitude and 93.22’ longitude. Uncommonly warm temperatures and lack of precipitation led to bicycling and rollerblading opportunities never previously available in the Twin Cities. THAT part of the vu ja de winter I enjoyed. Heck, I had NEVER swept snow before. This past winter we had so little snowfall I swept it off of the sidewalk 3 times and only had to shovel twice ALL WINTER LONG!
However, starting with the call from Dad on November 30th, when I learned that he was diagnosed with stage 4 esophageal cancer, through tomorrow’s gathering of family and friends to celebrate Dad’s life, I have continually been experiencing more uncomfortable vu ja de occurrences .
Dad’s call at the end of November was like a punch in the gut.
Having to put our dog Sadie to sleep at the end of December left a hole in our home that can’t be filled.
Dad’s passing in early January left me rudderless, confused and sad. I’d never lost anyone that close to me. ‘Mom and Dad’, the inseparable source of strength and support for me, my siblings and all of our children, is now just MEMORIES of Dad and ACTUAL Mom (who we’d all like to support as best we can).
Hey, I’m experiencing and doing stuff here I’ve never had to do before. I‘m feeling somewhat ill equipped as I’m in uncharted (to me anyway) territory.
I don’t like to wallow in self-pity though, so I’m going to embrace these new vu ja de instances and use them as growth opportunities. I’m sure it was a vu ja de situation for Dad when the oncologist gave him his diagnosis with a prognosis of 3 to 6 months to live (Dad lived only 40 more days). One would have expected, and even accepted, a little self-pity on Dad’s behalf. He didn’t go there though.
HE DID THE OPPOSITE.
Mom relayed to us that while driving home from the doctor’s office Dad mentioned that he felt empathy for the doctor having to deliver such sad news to patients and their families. Dad told us all he’d lived a good 80 years and that, faced with the uncertainty of a cancer diagnosis, he was ready to go.
Wow. I better buck up and embrace these vu ja de situations like an adult, like a man, LIKE MY DAD.
To that end I am starting by working on a new concept. I don’t have a name for it yet, but I’ll gladly take suggestions.
WHAT I PROPOSE IS THE OPPOSITE OF AN AUTOPSY.
Everyone knows the autopsy process of determining the method of death through medical science via testing of the recently deceased. I know how Dad died. I read the oncologist’s report. I was with Dad as his mortal life ended.
The thing I’m proposing (as the opposite of the autopsy) is the process of finding out more about HOW DAD LIVED. At tomorrow’s gathering to celebrate Dad’s life I intend to ask older relatives and acquaintances questions about Dad. Then (for a change, opposite what I normally do) I intend to shut up and listen.
Dad only spent 40 plus days dying. He spent 80 plus years living a remarkable life. I think it makes little sense to dwell on the death (autopsy) than it does to explore the life (the opposite of an autopsy).
Heck, who knows? This is all vu ja de to me.
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