Although this is Good Friday, this post is not about Jesus. "Him" from my title is my Dad.
As I started to hang my laundry this morning, I started to cry. This time it wasn't because I was sad for who I had lost. My eyes and heart finally moved from myself and landed on my Dad.
I lost a mother, he lost his wife.
I can't imagine. I never want to be the one left behind.
Dave and I have an ongoing, silly little fight about who is allowed to die first. Neither of us wants to be the first to go. Its too hard being the one left to pick up the pieces. That is what my Dad is living right now. Being left behind.
He has lost his wife, his best friend, his constant companion, his filter, his love, his confidant and partner... the list goes on. In the relationship of a spouse are found all other relationships.
How do we help? How do I , as his mourning daughter, help ease his pain and bring him comfort? Everyday must be so hard and so lonely. And yet he stands so strong in our presence. He dams up his tears and stops his mouth from speaking sadness.
My tears flow today for my fathers pain. For his present loneliness that we can't take away. So many holes that we just cannot fill. In ourselves and in those we love.
I am thankful that today is a day we remember our Heavenly Father and the sacrifice He sent for us. Jesus is the only way we can find comfort and fill the hole of this loneliness. On earth there is a sting of death, but with Christ we have eternity. Loneliness will pass away along with sorrow and sin. Until then, we cling to His promise. He is our comfort. He gives us what we need to comfort others.
Friday, March 11, 2016
There have been very few tears this week. As I sat down to try and assess why that was so, it hit me like a ton of bricks.
I feel as though I have grown a metal skin that is used to cover away all my sorrow and keep it from coming out lest it should rust. I didn't do it on purpose. I only just came to this realization an hour ago.
Some people get angry as part of the grief. I have no reason for anger. Instead, I've simply become a statue. A semblance of Katie walks and talks and eats but doesn't seem to allow feeling very far. My visits with people feel selfish because I am just thankful for their distractions. My brain is a fog and can't seem to offer any clear advice or conversation.
I know it wont last. I feel the ebbing pain surfacing as I type. I just thought it odd as I reflected that this was what I found. An icy surface "protecting" the soft and tender, hurting heart inside.
As the ice outside melts in my backyard and floods the yard, so this hardness will melt away and bring more tears to release the ache inside. New life will bud and grow and warmth will once again reign. Until then, I admit I have enjoyed the tear free week. Just not the ache that seems to build instead.