So take another breath for now and let the tears come washing down…

August 30, 2011.  So take another breath for now and let the tears come washing down… 

It’s been a year.  Some days it seems like it has been years and some days it seems like hours.  Grief is timeless. 

I miss my dad so much.  I miss his smile and his booming voice.  I miss his “dad jokes.”  I miss the presence of his strong faith.  I miss him for myself, for my family, and for my children.

And so today... 

I am just breathing and letting the tears come washing down... 

Last fall, when I read Choosing to See  by Mary Beth Curtis Chapman,  one part that spoke to me was about sadness.  She talked about how it was ok to be sad at times and to not be afraid to share it with others.   A grieving person doesn’t have to pretend like everything is ok.  So, today is one of those days for me.

I am sad today.  I can’t pretend that I’m not.  I might be sad the rest of the week as I remember back on what we went through in the days following his death.  If I don’t acknowledge the pain then I deny myself the opportunity to heal.  The events of the past year still seem surreal at times.  Our family has been through so much.  I’m not ready to share all of it from my journal at this point; I’m still processing some of it.  What I am ready to share is that without God I don’t know how I would have survived the past year.  God is what keeps me going. 

I have prayed for strength for this day.  I prayed for strength as I sobbed at my dad’s grave earlier today.  God is so good that He has filled me up. 

God helped me see that it’s time to start doing something to help myself.  I’ve had numerous people tell me that running is a great way to relieve stress.  I hate running. But today, when I got home from the cemetery, something in me wanted to run.  So I did.  I went for a walk/slow jog.  It felt so good. 

God helped me clear my mind and focus on how truly blessed I am.  I grew up with a loving, Christian father who loved me dearly.  And, although he is gone, he is not forgotten and lives on through the legacy he left. 

Thanks for always holding my hand, Dad. 

July 1975