It's Been One Month
It's been 1 month today.
Am I supposed to be over it?
Feels like I am.
Definitely not over it though.
I think I thought I would be by now.
He was 85 and had dementia for crying out loud.
I don't think it's about missing him all the time.
More about the waves of sadness that come out of nowhere.
Last night Kevin was watching a movie before falling asleep.
The Natural... a 1984 classic.
Dad and I used to watch it together all the time.
I think I liked it mostly because of Robert Redford :).
I was so excited when he told me it was only half way over.
Not too long into watching it... I just started weeping.
Pretty sure Kev didn't know what to do with me.
He immediately turned it off.
"No! Don't turn it off. I love this movie!" I said through my tears.
He then immediately turned it back on.
And I wept some more.
Pretty much cried myself to sleep in his arms.
Where in the world did that come from?
I really have been doing great.
Teary eyed when memories come up...
But not the weeping like that.
I think I'm starting to get it now.
Death.
The weird feeling that there is a huge piece of my life that is just missing.
Crazy... because these last 2 years have been far from easy.
Appointments, meds, his walker, 24/7 care.
Nothing easy about any of it.
Crazy... how I miss getting him his walker.
How can that be?
It was all such a pain at the time.
Kevin and I have talked about the fact that there is a sense of purpose that is gone from our life now.
Mom is still here with us of course, but she is so very independent.
In the midst of homeschooling, church, She Has A Name, sports, family...
The responsibility of taking care of Dad was always there.
And in just a few weeks time...
It's gone.
There is a certain freedom that we have now.
Mom is able to do so much more.
We are too, for that matter.
And yet there is a sadness I have never felt before.
I know that mixed in with the tears last night was a sense of fear that I may not ever get over it.
The fear of how hard it will be to watch all the Christmas movies this year.
Funny... my big brother told me just yesterday that we aren't supposed to ever "get over it".
He said that we need to learn how to live in the new reality of life without Dad...
But not expect that we will ever be over the sadness of missing him.
My mentor texted something so very profound to me the other day.
I didn't catch it the first time I read it.
It wasn't until the next day when I read it again...
That it made so much sense.
She said she was praying "I would trust that God is holding me tight".
Not that I would "FEEL" God holding me tight...
That I would "TRUST" that He is.
Such a huge difference.
She must have known that I wasn't exactly "feeling" His nearness at that moment.
She must have known that I needed prayer for me to "trust" in spite of how I was feeling.
As the waves of sadness come...
I will trust that God has me right where He wants me.
As the waves of sadness come...
I will continue to be comforted by the fact that there is a time to mourn.
As the waves of sadness come...
I will trust that they will not overtake me.
As the waves of sadness come...
I will lean into my God, my family, and my friends.
As the waves of sadnees come...
I will lean into the promises of God.
Am I supposed to be over it?
Feels like I am.
Definitely not over it though.
I think I thought I would be by now.
He was 85 and had dementia for crying out loud.
I don't think it's about missing him all the time.
More about the waves of sadness that come out of nowhere.
Last night Kevin was watching a movie before falling asleep.
The Natural... a 1984 classic.
Dad and I used to watch it together all the time.
I think I liked it mostly because of Robert Redford :).
I was so excited when he told me it was only half way over.
Not too long into watching it... I just started weeping.
Pretty sure Kev didn't know what to do with me.
He immediately turned it off.
"No! Don't turn it off. I love this movie!" I said through my tears.
He then immediately turned it back on.
And I wept some more.
Pretty much cried myself to sleep in his arms.
Where in the world did that come from?
I really have been doing great.
Teary eyed when memories come up...
But not the weeping like that.
I think I'm starting to get it now.
Death.
The weird feeling that there is a huge piece of my life that is just missing.
Crazy... because these last 2 years have been far from easy.
Appointments, meds, his walker, 24/7 care.
Nothing easy about any of it.
Crazy... how I miss getting him his walker.
How can that be?
It was all such a pain at the time.
Kevin and I have talked about the fact that there is a sense of purpose that is gone from our life now.
Mom is still here with us of course, but she is so very independent.
In the midst of homeschooling, church, She Has A Name, sports, family...
The responsibility of taking care of Dad was always there.
And in just a few weeks time...
It's gone.
There is a certain freedom that we have now.
Mom is able to do so much more.
We are too, for that matter.
And yet there is a sadness I have never felt before.
I know that mixed in with the tears last night was a sense of fear that I may not ever get over it.
The fear of how hard it will be to watch all the Christmas movies this year.
Funny... my big brother told me just yesterday that we aren't supposed to ever "get over it".
He said that we need to learn how to live in the new reality of life without Dad...
But not expect that we will ever be over the sadness of missing him.
My mentor texted something so very profound to me the other day.
I didn't catch it the first time I read it.
It wasn't until the next day when I read it again...
That it made so much sense.
She said she was praying "I would trust that God is holding me tight".
Not that I would "FEEL" God holding me tight...
That I would "TRUST" that He is.
Such a huge difference.
She must have known that I wasn't exactly "feeling" His nearness at that moment.
She must have known that I needed prayer for me to "trust" in spite of how I was feeling.
As the waves of sadness come...
I will trust that God has me right where He wants me.
As the waves of sadness come...
I will continue to be comforted by the fact that there is a time to mourn.
As the waves of sadness come...
I will trust that they will not overtake me.
As the waves of sadness come...
I will lean into my God, my family, and my friends.
As the waves of sadnees come...
I will lean into the promises of God.
Ps. 121
1 I lift up my eyes to the mountains—
where does my help come from?
2 My help comes from the Lord,
the Maker of heaven and earth.
where does my help come from?
2 My help comes from the Lord,
the Maker of heaven and earth.
3 He will not let your foot slip—
he who watches over you will not slumber;
4 indeed, he who watches over Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep.
he who watches over you will not slumber;
4 indeed, he who watches over Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep.
5 The Lord watches over you—
the Lord is your shade at your right hand;
6 the sun will not harm you by day,
nor the moon by night.
the Lord is your shade at your right hand;
6 the sun will not harm you by day,
nor the moon by night.
7 The Lord will keep you from all harm—
he will watch over your life;
8 the Lord will watch over your coming and going
both now and forevermore.
he will watch over your life;
8 the Lord will watch over your coming and going
both now and forevermore.
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