In The Friend, Bill Murray played acclaimed author Walter, who died of suicide. Walter was survived by several ex-wives, his daughter Val, and best friend and one-time lover Iris, played by Naomi Watts. After his death, Iris inherited Walter’s 150-pound Great Dane Apollo. Apollo was with Walter when he succumbed to suicide. Walter was the brilliant writer, charming conversationalist, and World Class Asshole. All Walter’s friends silently copped to that, too.
At his funeral, Walter’s ashes were scattered over Hudson Bay from a boat. None of Walter’s pretentiously fake friends and family cried for the man. Yet, Apollo heart-wrenchingly howled. He cried. He missed his Master, missed his best friend. He suffered profound loss. It didn’t matter to Apollo that Walter was imperfectly human. He was gone. Apollo missed him. Apollo was sad. I cried, too.
Several years ago, my sister Carol called me when Dad passed away. Dad died in hospice care. He would have been 90 years old later that month. Dad suffered from heart failure in his final months. His passing was imminent. Time is undefeated.
I said that I would let Dad’s friends in Alaska know. For 17 years, Dad and I went salmon fishing together at the Riddle’s Fishing Lodge in Kenai, Alaska. The people there were like family to us. There, Dad could be his most authentic self. They all loved Dad. He loved them, too.
Our friend Steve called me back. He was so sorry about my loss. Steve said, “Herb was a great man.” I cried. I truly got that Dad was gone. I missed him. I was sad.
In truth, Dad and I had our imperfectly human relationship. As a little boy, Dad scared the hell out of me. Whatever I did or didn’t do only made him so angry with me. I never knew which. I was not the son Dad wanted. I was his greatest disappointment in life. I was never good enough for Dad. I never would be. I would never be good enough for anyone, especially for me.
I spent much of my adult life proving that I was good enough. That I was good enough to be loved. Good enough to be loved by Dad. Still, being more of anything would never be enough. That’s just the human design. That’s just life.
According to the First Noble Truth of Buddhism, there will always be suffering in life. The Second Noble Truth is the source of suffering. My source of suffering was my childhood trauma and depression, my inside fear of Dad. The Fourth Noble Truth is the path to end suffering. On my path to end suffering, I love myself for who I am and forgive myself for who I’m not.
I trained in Aikido for 35 years with the late Mizukami Sensei and Ishibashi Sensei. Mizukami Sensei was a father to me. Sensei said, “Just train.” I didn’t have to get somewhere or be someone else. For the first time in my life, I was good enough. Still, I can always be greater, always be a better person, a greater man. Just train.
Ishibashi Sensei said, “The safest place to be is under the attack, in the danger.” Sensei taught, “Apply the technique to yourself, not to the attacker.” I enter the attack, hold my position, and let go my fear inside that I’m not good enough. Let go my fear of Dad as a little boy. I’m quiet inside. O-Sensei Morihei Ueshiba said, “True victory is victory over oneself.” It’s me against me. There’s no opponent outside of me. It was never me against Dad. I work on myself, not on others. I could love Dad for who he was.
I worked with my therapist Lance Miller to heal my childhood trauma and depression. I forgave Dad for not knowing how to be a father, for being afraid inside too, and for being imperfectly human. I forgave myself for not being strong enough to stand up to Dad as a little boy and protect Mom. I forgive myself for being imperfectly human, too.
The truth in loss is that I learn and grow from it. The truth in sadness is that I heal from it. Happiness and sadness are Yin and Yang. Happiness and sadness don’t exist without the other. Much like the Yin and Yang in life and death. In my sadness, in my tears, I loved Dad. I always did.
A lot of good people loved Dad throughout his life. Maybe, they saw one side of him, the one side of the Man. For good or bad, I saw and experienced both sides of the Man. Dad was imperfectly human. Me too. Dad gave me life. He did the best that he could. I’m grateful for that. Although I suffered, I missed Dad. He was gone. I loved him. I profoundly wished that Dad finally found peace in the end. He deserved that. Rest in peace, Dad. “And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.”
The truth in sadness is acceptance, is forgiveness. Life ain’t all about me. In life, I don’t fight my sadness. Don’t pretend that I’m not sad. I’m just sad in sadness. Like Apollo, sadness heals us so that we can move on, and love the ones we miss. There’s no happiness without sadness. There’s no life without death. That’s just life.
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