Why is what others think important? In a way its not but in a way it is. I know we shouldn’t worry about it in the sense that if others will make fun of us or not like us for how we are and we shouldn’t let what others think stop us from living out our faith. However, we are supposed to live as witnesses for Christ, letting out lives reflect our faith & the power & might of our Lord and Savior.
I didn’t (and don’t) mean to get so deep or controversial…I’ve just been “worrying” about it too much lately. My dear, loving husband seems to think I should be over the loss of my father - that thinking about him, missing him, and wishing he was here is pointless because it won’t change anything & it won’t make things better or different, therefore why do it? Yet I can’t help it (and he says I can/should)…
This used to be my ultimate FAVORITE time of year. I LOVED going back to school, the fall season, the fact that both my husband’s & my birthday are in September, the cooler weather, all of it screams comfort to me. Now it is tainted in a way. Tainted with bittersweet memories, tainted with the loss, the pain, and the inability to direct my thoughts away from my father. I LOVE remembering him and do so with great joy throughout the year, yet what I remember at this time of year are the other things:
- The last time I hugged him goodbye -
- I was at Micah’s Aunt & Uncle’s house (the Dotinga’s) we’d just finished Sunday dinner & were ready to head back to our car to head South for the rest of our vacation. I’d given everyone, Dad included, hugs on our way out of the house, thinking it wasn’t a big deal because I would see them again in only 6 weeks when they came to IA for a visit. Yet something felt off, I remember that clear as day. I didn’t want to let go of his hug. I for the first time in a long time when hugging him felt like crying. I hadn’t wanted to rush this trip & I felt suddenly like we were. I had forgotten Alexa’s toy in their car & so I had to run back to the house & ask Dad to get it for me. After retrieving it I gave him one more hug, and as he always said “Lord willing we’ll see you soon.”
- The awe, stinging shock and the exact circumstances surrounding my house when that dreaded phone call came.
- NEVER in million years would I have guessed what I was about to hear.
- The utmost empty, awful horrible pain/sobbing that erupted from me at the end of the visitation at church in Lethbridge.
- The whole time people had come through the line I had felt like it wasn’t right -- like I ought to be comforting them - they after all had lost their pastor, their friend, their neighbor…but they were comforting me. It never seemed real, like it was all just fake and as if I was removed from it all. Yet when most everyone had left & my family was just mingling around, I walked over to look at him. Only it wasn’t him. I wanted so badly to just hug him, have him hug me back, to talk to him, to hear his voice, to have him wrap his arm lovingly around me & lean on me & saying something, anything, and call me “daughter” in his precious way he had. Yet it was staring me in the face that it wouldn’t happen ever again, that it was real, all too real, and it was awful and something inside me snapped. I just remember sobbing uncontrollably (and I remember my husband not even noticing at all and that making me sob even harder)…that it was my brother (i think as I was out of it) who pulled me away in a hug…
- I remember the amazing, wonderful people of Lethbridge surrounding our family with their ever-present love & companionship & unthinkable generosity.
- I remember the long & awful trip home
- I remember the burial as if it would bring a closure & yet not ever feeling it…
So many things come to my mind. Not helpful things. I know all the truths I believe, I know they are true & most other days/times of the year I not only know & accept them, but they comfort me. Yet somehow, these days, this time of year it stings even more. It feels even worse. This is the only time, during this time of year, I think I allow the grief to really set in. I look at my children and I ache for them. I ache that they will never really, truly, get to know their grandpa. He was amazing with kids, he had such a way with them and I know he would have stolen my kids hearts with a simple wink. It pains me to know that Logan never got to meet him & that HE never got to meet Logan. At least I can tell Alexa & show her from pictures how much Grandpa loved her. That’s not an option with Logan. Oh how the small things hurt.
Yet after today I will once again close the flood gates, shut off the bitterness & the anger & even the pain, and I will cling to the words of comfort I have held so dear to my heart. I will once again remind myself that God’s plan is perfect, not a hair falls from our head without his knowledge, and that all this will work for His glory & His purpose. I know things could be worse. I know I can see good coming from our loss & our pain. Yet it doesn’t make it easier. I know he is in a much better place, a place I long to be, with our Lord and Savior. I rest assured we will one day meet again. But, as many do not seem to understand, it doesn’t make the loss here on earth any less real. There still is that large hole in our lives where his place once was. “The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.” Job 1:21
No comments:
Post a Comment