Moving on?

I have been programed from birth to be someone who sees the cup as being ½ full not half empty. I’m quicker to dive in then to step back and catch my breath. I know that everyone grieves and mourns in different ways. It will take time to adjust to the fact that my dad isn’t at his home at Clare Bridge waiting at the door for me to come. Only God knows how often he waited at that door for me to come and I didn’t show but a couple of times a week. I may intellectually understand that life will get better and time will have a way of bringing perspective but for today it still hurts and there is an empty place in my heart.

I’m thankful for the gifts that my parents have given to me over the years. This has nothing to do with monetary inheritance but a legacy that is bigger than life that calls me to reflect and rest on the promises of God that make life work. Yes, it is much easier to let life circumstances overwhelm you. I’m around heart ache all of the time. Yet, I can hear mom or dad telling me when we would move that our next home would be even better than our last and that I would make more friends. I believed them but still didn’t always like having to move.

My dad’s eternal homecoming was really an amazing gift for my family and me. I know that our cultural is afraid to talk about death, how to prepare for death and then how to grieve, mourn and remember in a spiritually and emotionally healthy fashion. The last week of my dad’s life I sensed that something wasn’t right and that these were literally his last days. The last day I took him for a ride to get a milkshake I knew he was slipping away. He didn’t say much and barely touched his shake, usually he would be attacking the cherry and making sure the whipped cream was gone real fast.

I knew intellectually that it was my dad’s time to walk away from a present life where he couldn’t remember the past, thankfully he recognized me but he was in constant pain, whether that be real or imagined. I can remember shedding a few tears as I dropped him off at his place. My emotions were on the edge and I could tell that something was about to happen. Yet, as I was raised I got back into my routine. The following day was busy so I didn’t go see my dad with the expectation that I would see him on Friday.

I played phone tag with a Hospice nurse who wanted me to know that my dad wasn’t doing great and needed some extra help. I wasn’t able to connect with her but did attempt to reach Laurie, the nurse in charge, at my dad’s facility. I knew that I would rush to see my dad in the morning after breakfast because the staff would be busy until then. I knew that as we walked into his room that he would be in his bed, covered up with his blanket most likely sound asleep.

The first few moments with my dad that morning is what will inspire me for the rest of my life to not move on but live out the grace God showed me that morning. I knew realistically that my dad wouldn’t be able to talk and would be there lying still in his bed. Yet, he physically grabbed my hand, looked me in my eyes and told me he loved me and appreciated what I had done for him. I couldn’t hold back the tears as my Anne stood next to me. I then knew that this would be his last day with us. I had already texted and then called my brothers and our kids and their spouses.

I’m learning to live with my emotions instead of hiding them or pretending they don’t exist. It has been 6 years since my mom left us and I still tear up if I’m singing specific songs. I know it will take time for me to allow God to help me put back the pieces of my life with the assistance of my family and friends. I don’t want to move on but want to live with the memory and convictions of the two that brought me into this world.