I am home alone tonight and since my dad passed away that is not a good thing for me. When I have time to think, my thoughts go to him. I still can't even grasp the fact that my father is gone. I know that he battled cancer for 18 months, but I really did believe that he would beat it. My dad was a machine. He was the strongest man I ever knew. I knew that if anyone could beat cancer it would be him. That is what makes me so mad. Why? Why didn't he beat this horrible disease? I am a person of deep faith. I believe that God has a plan and when I pray, I usually ask for God's will to be done, but not this time. This time, I prayed for healing. I prayed for a miracle, but I didn't get it. I have lived my life trying to serve God every chance I get. I try to tell others about Him and lead others to Him. So, was the death of my father His will? If so, then I am pissed. Was this a test? He tested Abraham. Is this my test? If so, well, He got me. This is the one test that I can't pass. I can't be ok with my dad's death. I can't find peace in the fact that he is in a better place. This was his heaven. Being with his family was his heaven. His grandchildren were his heaven. He wanted to be here. He fought like hell to be here. As a Christian, I am supposed to find comfort in the fact that even though my dad has died that my faith will get me through this. Well, I don't have that right now. I have my faith, but for the first time in my life, it is not helping. There isn't a Scripture that has helped. There isn't a song that has helped. Nothing. I am broken. My best friend has died. My rock, my strength.....gone. Who am I without him? I was in his thoughts 24 hours a day. If a storm was coming, he called to tell me to stay home. If I was out of coffee creamer, it was in my refrigerator before I got home from work. My father knew what I needed before I even did. I don't know what to do without that. The loss is unbearable. The emptiness is painful. I am forever changed.
So many other people in my life have experienced loss. I think of my friend, Terri, who lost her daughter, Meg. I think of my friend, Rosemarie, who lost her daughter, Jessica. I think of my friend, Teresa, who lost her husband, Peter. I think of all my friends who have lost a parent already and I say, I'm sorry. I didn't do enough for you. I didn't know the pain. For the past few weeks, I have cried for you. I have hurt with you. I have joined my suffering and my pain with yours. I now understand.
They say it will get better. They say that I will heal in time. I guess that is true, but I don't think I will ever be ok with the fact that my dad died at 67. I don't think I will ever be ok that I lost so many years with him. That pain will always remain. I guess I will learn to live with it, but life for me will never be the same. My dad took a part of me with him when he died. A big part. So for now, I cry. Empty and broken. A daughter lost without her daddy.
