How are you doing? This is the question I get a lot recently & honestly don’t know how to answer most days. The grieving process is very strange. I don’t know exactly how I’m supposed to feel really. Some days I cry a lot, some days I feel as though I can’t squeeze out one single tear. Some days, I somehow am able to push the thought out of my mind for short periods of time to fully focus on work, my girls, my husband, etc. Other days, I can’t focus on anything but the fact that he’s gone. Running has become more of a necessity than just a fun hobby. I yearn to go out for a run. It helps me to release the tension and anxiety I feel…however, I hardly can run without crying because my heart hurts continuously. Ending each run with a high five to the sky, I know there will never be a run that I don’t think about my Dad. Some days, I feel as though my sadness has turned into motivation – motivation to make the most of the day, be a good parent, and strive to be a difference maker. Other days, I feel like I’m drowning in my sadness and can hardly breathe. Strange, this whole death thing.
Today has actually been a decent day. I haven’t cried, until now at least, and I got a lot accomplished. I felt OK today. Got a lot done at work, enjoyed seeing my sister play with the new toys she bought the girls, had a nice dinner provided by good friends. Now, as I sit here and type my thoughts, I’m thinking tons about my Dad. Memories flood my mind. Thankful that I have over 10,000 photos (literally) in my iPhoto to look back on and remember all of the good times. Thinking it is so strange that he’s not here.
I gave this frame below to my Dad a few years ago as a gift and recently took it back home. It has two pictures of us on from one of our six Mexico Mission Trips. I love these two pictures and how they really express so much about our relationship. My Dad loved these pictures too…I remember how neat he thought this gift was when I gave it to him. The first pic is of him showing me how to hammer in the roof nails correctly, as we built a house for a family in need. He was always willing to help – whatever it was. Big or small, I was his little girl and he always took care of me. The second pic is of us when the job was done. My Dad used to always get teary eyed when we completed another house together, he was always so proud. And I was too. I love that we have these memories, along with so many others. I am missing him tonight and so very sad that there won’t be any more memory makers. But, I am so incredibly thankful for the ones we have made. Now, more than ever, I understand why they were so important to Dad to make them.