Lately, the thing that makes me angry is how life just goes on. Like the world just keeps spinning. Bills are due. Food has to be cooked. It makes me want to punch things. I want to curl in to a ball and sob oceans of tears. I want everything to just stop and be still while I process what it is like to be in the world without him.
And it doesn’t. The world just keeps going.
“How are you?” Well meaning loved ones ask. It’s habit, really. Someone picks up the phone and you say, “Hello. How are you?”
How am I supposed to answer?
I am not okay. I miss him. I miss him so much. I spend hours letting memories of him go through my mind. I miss him. He worried about everything practical. He worried so well that I had time to worry about things like what kind of person I want to be. He had me and mine covered. Always. Even when I didn’t live here he had me. Always.
No we have to have us. We see. We appreciate how much he took care of for us. How many things he set up, dealt with, made sure were right…his love was action. It leaves a physical and emotional vacuum. We have to do all the things now. We aren’t even confident that we know what all of the things are. Here we are. Doing them. Missing him more. Appreciating him more.
I am not okay.
And I know it’s okay not to be okay but I’m prickly. All I really want are hugs and words can so easily rankle me. I isolate. I am deeply heart broken. There is nothing anyone can do to help me. I have to go through it to get to the other side. The place where I can function with this darkness inside of me. This deep, never ending well of grief will not be denied. I will not let it consume me but it has to out.
My therapist is sick. She has the virus.
I pray fervently she gets well. She and I have been together for years. She has helped me through so many lows in my life. I miss her now in this moment of grief and trauma and ptsd and isolation and confusion. I need her to get better.
I can’t help to notice how the universe has been hammering home lessons to me through all of this.
I am capable. I am enough. I am worthy. I am human. I am loved.
In the midst of this series of worst moments of my life I have done the absolute best that I could. I have held nothing back. I have left it all on the court. I have walked with God, the creator. I have trusted in the universe and my ancestors. I have called on and walked with Jesus. I have done the absolute best that I could in those unbelievably awful moments. No time to consider or pontificate. No time to grab a conference call and get advice. No back up. Just me and adversity.
I wish I could have saved my Daddy. I wish that with everything in me. I feel guilty about my ignorance, my humanity. My inability to be the one who decided if he stayed or went. At the same time, I know, unequivocally that I did every single thing I was capable of doing. I was strong. I was loving. I was decisive. I educated myself with reliable information from trusted sources. I asked for help. I did the best I could and it wasn’t enough to save him. The Lord had a different plan.
I lean not on my own understanding.
One thing I know. I know my Daddy is proud of me. He always was. He told me every chance he got. When my progress was on the internal me. He noted the changes. He savored them. He watched me and smiled. Daddy was NOT a smiler. lol This slight upturn of his lips as he listened to me share some part of my day or situation I encountered. He was proud of his baby. He saw me as good and smart and capable and worthy of protection.
I see it too Daddy. Adversity breeds character. I will come out of this clearer in who and whose I am.
I just miss him.
So much.
Thanks for reading.
HRHDana 