On My Mind...
I have so much stuff swimming around in my head lately. Mostly, I have been thinking a lot about my Dad. I remember hearing people say that they thought about a loved one who had passed away "every single day" and thinking that they were probably exaggerating. But it is true. Not one single day has gone by without me thinking about my Dad, and missing him. I sort of feel like there are some people who don't really understand this, and feel like I should be "over it" by now. They don't realize that even though it has been five months since my Dad left, it feels like it just happened. I can't believe we have already celebrated Loralie's B. day, Mom's birthday, Halloween, thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's, and Matt's birthday without him. All of those gathering have seemed kind of hallow, and his presence was definitely missed.
I have been thinking a lot about how my Dad was my age when he lost his own parents. I wonder if I saw him cry about it when I was so little, like Loralie has seen me cry. She says "Mommy sad?" It makes me feel even worse that she has to see her Mom be a total wack-job. Was Dad thinking about his Mom all through my third birthday party, like I was thinking about him all through Loralie's second birthday party? Did he, like me, feel like surely this one loss was all a person could handle, and then get hit with the loss of his brother, and then his Dad? I am not sure that I would be able to live with that grief. I don't know he did it.
The first time that it snowed this winter I cried and cried. It really bothered me to think about my Dad being outside in the weather, cold in the ground. I had to keep reminding myself that he wasn't there. That his spirit had long since left that body. But those are the moments that completely take you by surprise. One minute you are washing dishes at the kitchen sink, and all of a sudden you notice the snow and it just hits you. Those waves of grief. It seems like I just keep getting knocked over by them.
My brother was playing Dad's guitar last weekend at my parent's house. He played "Mr. Bo Jangles" so much like my Dad that I could have closed my eyes and imagined that it was him sitting there, playing for the grand babies. I feel lucky that Matt is so much like my Dad, that there is a little piece of him that lives on in him.
I am sure that when you are in heaven, time is a funny thing. You aren't rushed, you can do whatever you want (at least that's what I think). I am sure that these few short months have passed so quickly for Dad. He has been catching his parents and brother up on everything that we have been up to. He has been bragging about his little granddaughters and I am sure checking in on them from time to time. And in what seems like a blink of time, we will join him one by one. So easy and happy for him. So hard and long of a wait for us.
Sorry about the depressing nature of this post.
I have been thinking a lot about how my Dad was my age when he lost his own parents. I wonder if I saw him cry about it when I was so little, like Loralie has seen me cry. She says "Mommy sad?" It makes me feel even worse that she has to see her Mom be a total wack-job. Was Dad thinking about his Mom all through my third birthday party, like I was thinking about him all through Loralie's second birthday party? Did he, like me, feel like surely this one loss was all a person could handle, and then get hit with the loss of his brother, and then his Dad? I am not sure that I would be able to live with that grief. I don't know he did it.
The first time that it snowed this winter I cried and cried. It really bothered me to think about my Dad being outside in the weather, cold in the ground. I had to keep reminding myself that he wasn't there. That his spirit had long since left that body. But those are the moments that completely take you by surprise. One minute you are washing dishes at the kitchen sink, and all of a sudden you notice the snow and it just hits you. Those waves of grief. It seems like I just keep getting knocked over by them.
My brother was playing Dad's guitar last weekend at my parent's house. He played "Mr. Bo Jangles" so much like my Dad that I could have closed my eyes and imagined that it was him sitting there, playing for the grand babies. I feel lucky that Matt is so much like my Dad, that there is a little piece of him that lives on in him.
I am sure that when you are in heaven, time is a funny thing. You aren't rushed, you can do whatever you want (at least that's what I think). I am sure that these few short months have passed so quickly for Dad. He has been catching his parents and brother up on everything that we have been up to. He has been bragging about his little granddaughters and I am sure checking in on them from time to time. And in what seems like a blink of time, we will join him one by one. So easy and happy for him. So hard and long of a wait for us.
Sorry about the depressing nature of this post.
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