Dad Chronicles: Processing Grief

My little fig tree from my Dad

These are my thoughts from yesterday, which turned out to be a day of deep processing of grief for me...

1 August 2022 

Today is one month since my Dad laid down to rest.

We've now entered a new month,... we can no longer say we're in the same month when Dad was still living. All the months before this month - for the last 74 years - Dad had lived in...  

These are strange thoughts, but this is grief.  

We've had lots of good, blessed days in our home lately.  We've started getting ready for the new school year... we've done some cleaning and decluttering, getting ready for the new season.... we took a day off last week and had fun going to the library, getting snacks.. shopping at Hobby Lobby.

And now the tide is in again, sweeping me away.  Today was hard.

Harder than I was expecting, actually.

My sister expressed exactly what I had been thinking and feeling lately - it's just like we've been busy and haven't seen Dad in a while - it isn't like he's really gone.  And then the waves come crashing to shore as the reality of the never-ending nightmare washes over my brain again - he really is gone.  

I really can't call him and talk to him... he won't be there when we go visit.

The Father's Day mugs we bought him won't be used by him.

This old Reba McEntire song keeps rolling through my head.... "If I had only known.. it was our last walk in the rain... I'd have kept you out for hours in the storm..."

I have these vivid memories of a handful of "lasts" I had with him... and even though I didn't know it was our last time to sit on the porch swing... our last time to walk through his garden and listen to him tell me about all the things that were growing... my last time to let him take me for a ride in "Benji" while letting some of the kids ride in the back... our last phone conversation...

Even though I couldn't have known that any of those were our lasts,... I had a distinct awareness to be present... to slow down... listen ... take it in... enjoy.  I really believe God put that in my spirit... maybe I was able to do that because I'm older now, and I know I shouldn't take things for granted... and I only got to do those things with him a few times a year - whatever the reason, I really think God allowed me to be aware that I needed to savor those everyday kind of moments with my Dad - and they happened to be the very last time I did any of those things with him.  

And I was really tuned in... and for that I am so, so grateful.

Presenting the grilling table he built Jeff for his 50th birthday

Today was hard.  I spent most of it in a brain fog and sadness... and even took a nap, after which I still felt exhausted.  But as afternoon turned to evening, the fog began to lift and I managed to cook supper.  

Maggie, who had also been having a hard day helped pull supper together and made biscuits for tomorrow's breakfast.

The sun set, and after supper was cleaned up, we made coffee and I sat down to journal my thoughts.  We gathered as a family and talked... laughed... opened our Bibles... and I felt some normalcy return to my bones.  The waves of grief deposited me back on shifty sand and left me as they rolled back out to sea.

Thankfully, my house isn't built on shifty sand... my life has it's firm foundation on the Rock.  The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob is also my God... my Abba... my good Shepherd.  When I don't have the strength to walk the path, he lifts me up.

I know the tide will come in again.... I know floodwaters will come... storms will ravage.  But my family's faith is strong, and our God is stronger.