I haven’t spoken as much about grief lately because I know my Daddy would want me to live my life to the fullest possible and for God. But that does not mean I have forgotten him. Not in the least. I see grief as a long walk in the cold. At first, there is the shock of the cold air, the disturbance, the cause of grief. Then you shiver and are uncomfortable as you keep walking and have a lot of trouble focusing, then eventually you get used to the cold and your coat warms you. Now and then you get a blast of cold air that makes you uncomfortable again but you are quicker to think and recover for a bit. This is the process. First is initial shock, then deep feelings of loss and pain followed by a getting back to life but with wafts of pain and discomfort. Mostly life is livable or good again but there are moments of deeper remembrance and contemplation of loss. So, if you are going through this process, keep going and pray and it is okay if it takes a while. It just does. We are not robots. And if you know me or someone else going through this roller coaster journey, know that it is okay, pray, please be patient. It will get better with time and prayer. God comforts those who mourn and He has me helped most, because I humbly asked Him to. Keep moving forward. Tears and all, pray and keep moving forward. Love you!
I am broken. I do not have my hero anymore. I have God who has stepped in lovingly and taken over his role as protector and daddy, hero and friend. But that is spiritual and physical, I have found, matters more than my mind tells me it does. I miss “I Love You” and chocolates and a stuffed animal on Valentine’s Day like he used to get me. I get nothing now, just doesn’t matter to my husband. I miss presents from him at Christmas. I miss hugs all the time from him and smiles that I was appreciated. Those I get from my husband sometimes but it is not the same somehow without that tone of love daddy had in his voice and ever ready ability to make me feel that he would attack anything or one who would dare sadden me in any way. I am not sure how healthy that was but I assure you it always gave me great security and comfort. He was concrete. I am now awash in the tides. Sometimes I feel I am clinging onto God and my huaband so strongly that I have concrete again. Sometimes, especially when tired, I feel like they are both far from me and I am loose and vulnerable. That is how I feel today. I miss you, daddy. I miss your secure love. Hope you are having a wonderful time in heaven, though. That comforts me. So happy for you. Sorry I am feeling sorry for myself here today without you. I am sure after a good night’s sleep, and considering tomorrow is my birthday, I will snap out of it soon. Just the current battle of my mind right now.
I am getting a handle on this grieving thing. It is strange because when you lose someone you love so very much that played such a loving, beautiful and supportive role in your life and that was such a big part of your life for so long, it is like they are still there with you. It is like our brains are computers that don’t understand that they are not there anymore in a tangible way. Like everywhere you go, they are there still. But they are not. They are not accessible until heaven, a day or a lifetime away, depending. Their absence is like a temperature – less remembrance of warm meaningful moments. You breathe out more of the warmth of that past as you breathe in the now. Someone says something or you go into a room and a memory comes back to your eyes and nose and forehead and they are there again and it fades again and leaves you alone once more in the now. It is strange, morbid or beautiful, depending on the moment. And those are just my thoughts of the moment. No solution to offer at the moment, only my observations. Working it out in my way over time. Love you!