Father's Day 2015

For a few days now, I have been struggling with the arrival of the second Father's Day since my dad passed. What I have felt, has been, and probably will be very hard for me to express, so bear with me.

I was upset, nearly back to how I felt when he initially passed. Here I am on Father's Day with no father of my own to honor or celebrate. But rather than let myself be sad, I turned all of that into anger. Not anger at him, Thank God, but angry at myself. I kept telling myself, that I had no RIGHT to sit here, upset about my father being in heaven, since I had not actually BEEN with him on a Father's Day since who even knows when. Clearly, as I have laid out before, that was a decision I had to make for ME, but I have truly broken myself down in the last 3 days about what a horrible person I am. That I have no right to mourn my father on Father's Day. I hope this is all making sense, as I said, it is quite difficult for me to put into words.

Food has been my best friend over these past few days, as I have been not too kind to myself, attempting to push away my sadness and replace it with a broken soul.

Cut to late this afternoon, (and this my friends is where I get a bit crazy), I opened a bag of chips and laying RIGHT ON THE TOP OF THE PILE OF CHIPS IN THE BAG was this.

A chip. A potato chip with a cut out in the middle, that to me, looks like an angel. For over a year now, I continue to see little messages, little signs that my Dad is there. And today, he showed up, just when I needed him. For much of my life, he didn't show up the way I needed him to, but he is making up for it now, whenever and wherever he can. He loved me. I am allowed to mourn him and celebrate whenever I want, which includes Father's Day. <3 nbsp="" p="">

PS. I ate the chip... don't want anyone to think I have some weird chip shrine going on now. ;-)

Nearly a year, my sweet big boy, and lots of tears

During lunch today, I was telling the boys a story about a time my dad and I were eating lunch. We were eating chicken nuggets and I was dipping them in honey. There wasn’t all that much to the story, other than that. Maddox then started talking about how I was sad and cried a lot after my dad went to “live in Heaven with God”. He then said that it made him sad and scared. He asked  me, “How come you stopped crying, Mama?”.

What a question. What amazing observations by my then, 3 year old boy. It made me a bit overwhelmed thinking of those first few months after my dad’s unexpected death. It was so hard for me, and I knew for my little family as well, but being so much more clearheaded now, I realize just how hard it must have been for my boys and my extremely supportive husband. There were so many days that as soon as Joe walked in the door after work, I crawled into the bed and just laid there. As Maddox said, it scared him. It must have been awful for him to see me in a state that he literally could not help his Mama get out of. I am so thankful that he has the words and confidence to tell me how he feels.

So I answered his question… “I stopped crying because over time your heart begins to heal. Little by little.”

A nurse, when I was fully convinced I was going to have a nervous breakdown after dad passed, was a light for me, when I desperately needed. 3 years earlier, she had lost her dad. Finally, here was someone who experienced it, since none of my friends have gone through the loss of a parent. She told me that it hurts, unbelievably hurts. But that someday I will wake up and it will feel a little better. And that little better will continue over the course of the year. She said by the first year, you will have a “new normal” in your life, which includes a “heavy” piece on your heart that still hurts, but not a crippling hurt.

So here I am, nearly 7 days away from the one year anniversary of the day my dad passed. That nurse was so right. I still feel this heaviness in my heart, where at times, like right now, I feel like I cannot even breathe, but time has healed my heart. It is a new normal. We were estranged in life, but in his death, we are no longer estranged. I know better now, than I ever did, how much he did truly love me. I am no longer angry.

He was 100 days sober on the day he passed. I know he must have been so proud of himself. I try not to get caught up in the “what ifs”, but I do wonder a lot, ‘What if he had not passed, would his sobriety have continued? Would I have been able to introduce him to his two grandsons?’

I know that next Thursday will be hard. I have a few things planned for the day that will hopefully make it a little easier. I appreciate everyone’s love and support over the last year. Everyone who has been checking in with me, while I may not be talking much about it, I do appreciate knowing you are there for me. Knowing that people are praying for us and thinking about us is comforting.