Fifteen Years Later And My Dad Still Defies Death

Here’s a shocking statistic. I’m not sure you know this. It’s not exactly breaking news, but still, most people I know somehow missed the memo. Here it comes, drum roll, please….

Scientists, medical experts, liberals, conservatives, Republicans, Democrats, even his holiness, Dr. Fauci all finally agree. The mortality rate is 100%. We will die. We will all leave. Everyone we have ever known and will ever love will also die. This is one fact I don’t think any of us need to check. 

And yet, I’m here to tell you that this “fact” is not true. Yes, I will be dead, hopefully long after you read this. So will you (maybe you should read slowly). However, I have witnessed firsthand that we can defy death. I have proof, his name is Shelly Perelman.

It is tragically true that fifteen years ago my dad physically died. And yet, he is alive and well, and in some ways more vibrant than ever. How so you might ask? As an ancient wisdom teaching goes, a person dies two deaths; once when our body dies and another when our story dies. Although there is nothing we can do to stop bodily death, we can become a guardian of our loved one’s story. We can defy a second death, just like my dad.

Sure, my dad physically left this world 5,475 days ago, but not a day has gone by where I haven’t thought about him. Thoughts are things. Thoughts are real. When I think of him that thought is real to me. That thought brings me comfort. By the very fact that were talking about him right now means he has defied death.

Then consider this. My dad has been gone for longer than two of my four kids have been alive, and the older two were too little to remember him. Try convincing them, however, that they don’t know Grandpa Shelly. They may have never met him, but they feel like they know him. I’ve made sure of it. 

I speak to my children on a regular basis about Grandpa Shelly. I chase them around the house with the tickle monster (fine, my teenagers don’t go for it anymore but we still have a 10-year-old who's up for the game). They’ve heard Grandpa Shelly stories, antics and I’d be lying if I didn’t say it involved the old pull-my-finger-game (ditto on the teen and ten-year-old thing). They hear the quirky voice imitations I do of him and roll their eyes. They listen to me yelling at the TV, cursing and screaming at crappy Cornhusker football, and they know that this is how their dad spent time with his dad growing up (I take it back, the Cornhuskers have not defied death). 

The list goes on. The point is clear. Grandpa Shelly is very much a part of their life. Grandpa Shelly is alive and well. Grandpa Shelly has in so many ways defied death.

My dad is there for me during the tough times. I literally talk to him when I’m lost and confused (Airpods really have made this practice socially acceptable to do anywhere). I ask him questions and turn to him to help me bear my burdens. And yes, I hear from him. Sometimes it’s faint whispers. Other times it’s subtle signs like a song on the radio when I was thinking about him,  or a nail on the road (his sign) when I’m walking and talking to the old man.Then there are the bigger signs, which frankly I’ve come to dread. On more than one occasion, for instance, he has caused floods in my house and my sisters house, at the same time!

I see him in my dreams. No really, I’ll wake up and it’s hard to explain but I would swear he was just here. I see him when I look in the mirror, particularly his old man’s gray beard somehow migrating itself onto my face. I hear him every time I yell at the kids to turn off the lights and 1000 other habits and quirks I’d be happy to lay to rest.

But that’s the point. Those quicks are not at rest. He is not at rest. I’d argue he’s working his spiritual butt off tending to my brother and sister, to me and my family, and probably to many other people whom he knew, loved, and still takes care of, whose life he is a part of, now from the other side. 

My dad lives on in spirit. My dad lives in memory. My dad lives in my daily life. But mostly my dad lives in me.I can feel him when I live a life of virtue. I can sense him when I love his grandchildren for the both of us. I can feel him crying out to me, “choose life” always choose life. 

And although for one brief moment he made a tragic mistake and failed to choose life, that was just a moment in time. Shelly Perelman is alive and well, and as long as I’m alive, he will live on. 

I am the guardian of his fire. I am the keeper of his flame. I will protect it and carry it with honor, gratitude and love, and as long as I do, he defies death.

So join me on this day. Say his name with me. No really, say it out loud, “Shelly Perelman.” Now say your loved one’s name out loud and as you do they defy death. Sure, their body has died. Of course we want them back physically by our side. However, that is not a choice. What is our choice is what happens now. So become a guardian of their flame. Know that you can carry their fire. Just because their body has died does not mean they are dead. As Shelly Perelman reminds us, we can defy death!