Last weekend Lydia Grace and I traveled with my mom, sister, and brother-in-law to West Virginia. I even wrote a post for the
Knoxville Moms Blog about our trip--Mothering Through Grief.
"The country roads that wind before me today not only carry me home, but they serve to remind me of the twists and turns that life takes us through. You never really know what’s coming around the next bend. Sometimes you turn and the view is breathtaking. Other times storm clouds lie ahead. The last several years have held both for me. I have delighted in becoming a mother to my three precious blessings. There have been moments of pure bliss that have taken my breath away. There have also been dark times…I’ve experienced multiple miscarriages that have broken my tender mommy heart, the loss of loved ones, and having to say goodbye to my father–a man who once seemed as strong and invincible to me, as the Blue Ridge Mountains I’m headed towards today."
You can read that post in its entirety
here.
October 10 marked two years since daddy's death. It seems like just yesterday that he was still here with us though. The last two years have certainly had their ups and downs...
One of my dearest friends and I were talking several months back and she said, "How are you dealing with your dad's death? You know that I love your blog, but it is the posts where you share your heart that I enjoy the most. The crafts are great, but I like to read about the personal things that are going on in your life." I quickly replied, "I know. I haven't been opening up as much lately and sharing the personal stuff. It has just been too hard to let myself really dive in and
feel it all. It's been too painful. That post is coming though. I promise. It's coming..."
So here it is, sweet friend...
I miss my dad. It's been two years since I sat holding his hand as cancer ripped him from me. {gasp.} And I miss him. The rest of the world has continued on. But for my family, time seems to have stood still...
Two years ago I had to say goodbye to someone who had previously been a daily part of my life. I don't remember much from the days surrounding his death. It's just snippets and snapshots of a hazy and painful time...
Waking up the next morning praying it had all just been a terrible nightmare only to discover that it was in fact our new reality. A life without my dad...
Lord, give me the strength to get up and face this dismal day.
Sitting with my mom and sister as an obituary was scripted out. There it was--the feeble attempt at summing up the man's life who had been my father in one short paragraph.
When I don't have the answers, Lord, I know you are still there.
Surviving.
Crying.
Going through the motions.
The outpouring of love at the funeral.
Music. A hymn.
It really is well with my soul because I know where my strength comes from. Lord, it comes from you!
This doesn't seem fair, but I trust your plan, Lord. Please help me get through this.
Numbness.
Traveling to West Virginia.
Sitting beside the coffin.
People fading in and out.
Well-meaning people at a much later stage in life--older than my dad even--telling me that they knew exactly how I felt because they had
just lost their dad. Although no less painful, losing your dad in your twenties is different than losing your dad in your sixties. It just is.
A deep ache in my heart.
Not wanting to leave him.
Needing to hear him say, "Hey there, Miss Priss!" one more time.
Just. One. More. Time.
Tears.
Still surviving.
Kicks in my tummy from the sweet baby who I was pregnant with at the time. Caleb Joseph even got his middle name from his papa Joseph Edwin.
My little ones asking where their papa went.
Trusting God.
Praying.
Pain.
Day by day...
No, minute by minute.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Then it happens...
The rest of the world seems to return to normal. The cards, meals, and kind words stop. Everyone moves on...
Except those who are most affected. Except those whose lives have been shaken to the core by the loss. The aftermath of hurting hearts...
Clinging onto every shred of good just to get through the bad.
Grief.
And not "5 Stages of Grief". It's more like 105 stages. Confusion. Denial. Depression. Anger. Heartache. Hope. Always hope. And always God. The stages seem to come and go like the seasons.
My anthem being the words from a song...
I still believe in Your faithfulness
I still believe in Your truth
I still believe in Your holy word
even when I don't see, I still believe
My faith in God
never faltering. My faith in myself was a different story though.
You see...
That's the thing with grief. There are times when we question ourselves. Am I enough? Was I enough to them? Did I say everything that I needed to say? Was there something more I could have done?
Then comes realization. (105 stages, remember?) This life is so fragile. Our time is so short. There are no guarantees of tomorrow.
Resolve. I have to make it count. I have to make every moment matter.
Then the guilt rolls in when our resolve is not stronger than our sadness.
God, I will get through this.
Resistance. I believe a big part of grief is fighting against what has happened. There's a struggle between wanting to change things and finding acceptance in it. It wasn't in plan, so there's resistance. We long for things to be different. We struggle. We grieve. We mourn for how we
thought things were supposed to be.
And that's where my faith plays a critical role. Romans 8:28 says,
"And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them." It doesn't say that God will cause only good things to happen in our lives. It says that he will work things together for our good. Even in the midst of tragic circumstances, his hand is at work. His peace and presence cover us especially in our darkest hours.
Acceptance. What a beautiful day when we find acceptance of God's plan, of the perfect peace he offers, and of the beautiful things he creates from the ashes of our lives.
So there we were...
Two years later...
Country roads guiding us home to put new flowers down at daddy's grave and pay our respects.
Although Lydia Grace doesn't fully understand the magnitude of life and death, she knows that her Papa isn't with us anymore. She knows that he is in heaven and that she misses him. She also knows that she will see him again someday. Until then, she left him a gift. As we laid flowers down, she left two small acorns perched atop his headstone. I'd like to think he smiled from heaven at her sweet, childlike gesture. He loved his L.G. so much!
Like the seasons that are always changing, our lives have changed forever. There are some things that will never change though...
I'll always love and miss him. But God's presence and peace will continue to cover and guide us as we navigate through life without daddy.
God's beautiful promises carry us on...
"Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted."
Matthew 5:4
*The photos were taken near my grandfather's farm in Princeton, West Virginia, the cemetery in Bluefield, West Viriginia, and my uncle and aunt's farm in Bland, Virginia.
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