My dad is dead. It is hard for me to comprehend that statement even though it has been three months since he passed away. April 17, 2013. That date will forever hold a different meaning to me now. It will never just pass by unnoticed. Actually, since his passing, the 17th of every month takes me back to that day. I re-live those last 48 hours over and over in my head. They were the worst 48 hours of my life. My dad was here, and then he was gone. His last breath.....reaching up to the sky, eyes wide open. That image haunts me. As much as I hate that image, at least at that moment, he was still alive. The next moment....he was gone.....forever. As each day passes, I have moments where I am laughing with friends or enjoying an activity, but then that thought hits again.......my dad is dead. Then, everything around me stops. That feeling overtakes my stomach. I feel nauseous. I can't breathe. It is a feeling I have never known. It is an ache to deep to explain and one that only those who have lost someone can comprehend. I wish it upon no one.
"Go on," they say. "It will get easier." "He is in a better place." These words do not bring me peace, they cause anger, bitterness, and resentment. "Easy for you to say.....your dad is alive," I find myself thinking. Am I actually angry that their dad is alive? Yes, I am. These feelings are so foreign to me, but they are real. They are assaulting. They are consuming. As I watch the world continue.....people moving on with their own lives, I want to scream out loud, "My dad is dead! Why aren't you sad? Why are you acting like life will go on and that all is normal when nothing for me will ever be normal again?" Yes, life will go on, but it will be a different life for me. One without my dad......a life that I can't seem to adjust to living without him.
Faith. Where are you? Why can't I seem to find peace from the one thing that is the foundation in my life? I teach it everyday. There is nothing you can't handle with God......He might not take the storm away, but He will go through it with you. You must praise Him in the storm......all words spoken by me to my students. Now it is my storm and I am struggling to live by the very words that I believe and teach on a daily basis. Why? Because I loved him. Because I loved him so very much and my heart is broken. I am grieving. I am mad. I am not ready. My dad is dead. That is the only thought that seems to matter to me right now and when it hits me, once again, I can't breathe.
Will I heal? I'm sure it will begin to hurt less eventually. Will I ever stop grieving? I don't think so. Not completely. I think I will grieve the loss of my dad every day, in some way, for the rest of my life. I think he deserves that much anyway. For 39 years he loved me completely. I was in his every thought and I loved knowing that. Trying to navigate my life without him is going to take some time....not the amount of time that people think is appropriate, but whatever time I know I need. My dad is dead and I'm not ready to heal yet.
My dad took a part of me with him when he took his last breath. I felt it. I felt my heart break into pieces. I will never be the same. Will I laugh again? Yes. Will I still enjoy life? Yes. But, without him........without my dad.......I am forever changed. I am fatherless. I am a daddy's girl without her daddy. That is what defines me right now and that is my new reality.
Many of my friends are worried about my faith. They expected me to be stronger. Many expected me to accept this as God's will and His plan. Many thought I would find comfort in knowing that my dad is in Heaven........and I guess I should......but I don't. I know I have let many down and I'm sorry. My faith is still there, but nothing has ever hurt this much and I believe that what I am feeling is ok. This is grief. If I don't allow myself to feel this, I don't know if I will ever heal completely. I know that my God will pick up the pieces of my broken heart one day and I know that one day I will turn to Him for that help........but not yet. I'm not ready........so, don't force me to be ready. Don't expect me to be ready. Right now, I need to be carried.....by my family, by my friends and most especially......by my God.
So, why am I writing this? I'm not sure. I just know that I had to write this. Maybe this is the first step in the healing process. Whatever it is, it is my truth, it is my grief, it is my heartache. It is me trying to navigate this life without my dad.......one day at a time.....one memory at a time.....one tear at a time. Because for anything else.......I'm just not ready.
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