Grief is not a place.
You can’t just pass through.
It is a journey.
One that is long and filled with ups and downs.
Two weeks of good can feel instantly erased by the onset of another bout of pure, desperate grief.
Of missing someone so much it hurts to breathe.
The world continues spinning.
My world stopped.
12:28, 9, October 2014.
but it goes on.
If it weren’t for them, I would have chosen to go with him.
Tears fall. My face feels like it will be forever tear- stained.
My lips feel as if they will forever taste the saltiness of my grief for him.
And I know he would pissed at me for falling apart this way.
and that’s okay because sometimes I’m pissed at him for getting cancer and dying on me this way.
If ever there was a person next to God who seemed to love me unconditionally- it was him.
And I feel like a lost, little girl without him here to guide me through this mess.
He was like an all-in-one- dad, best friend, life coach, leader, always full of laughs and wisdom.
And knowing that I’m only 25 and that I will live the rest of my life missing him..
it is a constant dull ache that sometimes bubbles up to the top and boils over like a pot on the stove, the tears unstoppable.
the only way to release it is to write it out, to bleed it out on paper
even if it scares people simply because they don’t understand
it is a blessing to know the love we have- the love we had.
the pain of losing him is a blessing because it means that we loved.
I would do it all over again- the love
even knowing the pain it would bring.
I can call myself blessed because he was my dad.
Because of him, I can dry the tears and begin my day and I can love my children well.
He taught me how to love well, to push through when it’s hard, to keep going, to be open and honest, to never give up.
Grief can be ugly- it is easy to allow grief to be ugly.
The hard part is turning that brokenness into something of beauty.
He could turn a pile of a dirt and rocks into a thing of beauty given time.
It’s what he did for a living- he turned dirt into a beautiful yard, hills into level ground..
He worked his magic on our yard- giving my kids a place to play.
It doesn’t happen overnight though- you have to put up with the dirt and the mud, the itchy hay and the rain and then one day, you look out
and you see a yard made for running, chasing toddlers- a landscape made for life, living, and happiness.
Grief is kind of like that- a big pile of dirt and rocks that needs a lot of time, love, and grace
and you have to wade through the mud and the rain
but on the other side, there is beauty, happiness, and life to be lived.