They say that time heals all wounds... if that is the case, bring on the time. I'm searching for it.
It's been a full 6 months since my dad died. Six months today. I keep saying that I don't understand how time can go by so fast, and so slowly, at the same time.
I feel like it's been an eternity since I saw him last. Since I last heard his voice or felt his touch. I'd give almost anything to hear one of his jokes, hear his laugh, or just sit quietly in a room with him. I guess when someone you love dies, you always long for just one more day. One more hour... even one more minute. Time is so precious, and we often take it for granted until something like this happens to us.
I had someone ask me, so kindly, recently how I'm handling it now. Now that time has past. Now that reality has set in. To answer... I don't know. It's hard to blog about because, though I tend to be an open book type of person, this pain is the hardest thing I've ever gone through in my life. This tops anything I've ever experienced.
Last night I was sitting and talking with Clayton when I glanced over and looked at a picture of my dad and me on our bookshelf. Out of no where I burst into tears. I don't know why, I don't know what came over me. I literally was talking and laughing one second, and sobbing the next. The crying lasted an hour. I see that picture EVERY single day. Why was last night different? Because today was the 6 month mark? Because in our DHS parenting classes we've been talking about loss and what it does to us and children? I don't know.
Day to day I feel normal.. most of the time. I still get very jealous of other people that still have both of their parents. I'm trying so hard to let that feeling go. When someone talks badly about a parent I want to smack them and tell them to be thankful. If your parents didn't beat you, starve you, burn you with cigarettes, or molest you.. then shut up!!! Be THANKFUL. If your parents are alive... you don't know how lucky you are.
I know, that's so harsh. I know... really.. I do. This is something that grief has done to me that I never expetected - make me angry. I am angry that my family is hurting, I am angry that there is nothing that can bring him back. I am angry that others get so much time when they DON'T APPRECIATE IT. Why them? Why not me? I know.. not a good attitude. Not something a Christian should say or feel. This is why I don't say it. This is why I try not to feel anything.
I think that Samuel is already forgetting my dad... he'll say "that's Paw Paw" when he sees his picture, but that's likely just because I tell him so. Carter remembers him, but is too young to be truly sad about what's happened. Madison is the one that's sad. She doesn't want to talk about it, because it makes her sad. I know how she feels... baby girl I am right there with you.
I am thankful that a few times I've talked about Dad or had a memory and it actually made me smile instead of cry. Of course, there's still a sadness with the thoughts... but not like before. In all honesty, most of the time,I still can't talk about him, think about him, or give someone comfort in their loss with great words of how they'll be okay. How God will bring them through.. how they should be happy that one day they'll spend eternity together. There's little comfort in that sometimes... no words, or thoughts, or knowledge about the afterlife can heal your broken heart. All you want is your life back the way it was. I want it back. I want him back. I want to call and have him answer. I want to drive up to his house and have him excitedly come outside to greet us. I want to talk about the weather for goodness sakes! I want ANYTHING. But, there is nothing. Nothing that helps right now.
The absolute loss of control over life hits so hard during these times.. and it's scary. The one great thing that I will say has come from Dad's sudden death and the shock of it all is that it pushed me to act on things NOW. Today is the ONLY day as far as we know. Tomorrow might never come.. it might be too late.
I have been driven to leap into foster care because of this... because once I die.. what good was I? What did I do to serve Christ? What was my life worth to anyone outside of these four walls? If God was whispering something to me.. I learned to stop, listen, and RESPOND. Now. Right now.
I hate that I have less patience for people right now. I think with a broken heart that's trying to heal, your skin is as thin as paper. Any harsh word, any dirty look, any doubt, and any misplaced questions are like sandpaper on a burn. I don't have the ability to handle it right now - at least not some days. Thinking that someone doesn't like me or is judging me is an extremely painful thing, and something that I am currently dealing with and powerless to fix.
My days aren't full of sadness, crying, and being angry. But, in this moment it is how I feel and I knew if I didn't use this time to write about it, I would go on to post something silly and lighthearted tomorrow and never expose the state my heart is currently in. I don't expose a ton of the 'real' me on here. Sure, I let you all know in general what's going on... but the real me isn't in this blog. Not ordinarily. I keep 'me' safe from you all... safe from the possible judgements... safe from having to see you later and feel weak, embarrassed, or ashamed. This is real, though. I write it only for therapy for myself, and in hopes that someone else truly struggling will see themselves here and see that it isn't just them. It feels like it's just you, doesn't it? It feels like no one else in the world has hurt this much.. even though you logically know that's false.
So, I will wait for time. I will wait for Christ to take this pain away. I will wait for the hurting children that have suffered loss to come into our home, and maybe, just maybe, I will be able to relate to them. Maybe they will see my hurt and know that I do understand. I don't know what I'm waiting for, but I pray it's soon. My heart is exhausted...