As I lay...

The days have become long as the numbness of the pain fades away and the shock of reality comes into focus. I envision myself standing in the center of a high rise that has just crumbled to the ground. I survived but I stand in a heap of ashes and rubble. Initially, I couldn't fathom what took place. I've been in this building all of my life. This building is my safe haven, my refuge, my security. I'm choked by the remaining ashes gasping for breath. The building has come crashing down without warning and mentally so did I. As the ashes clear I don't recognize life outside of this building. Everything from this moment forward is a process of an unfamiliar notion that life may exist oust side of this brick box. How long do I stand in this rubble? Do I dare take a step outside of this crumbled place that I'm unable to rebuild? No grater loss I know. No grater pain I've felt. No bigger quest have I explored. Why was I left standing to witness the after math? It is impossible in my own strength to step out. Sorrow stifles me. Although I am aware life will never be the same. I'd much rather sit in this mess of brokenness and remember what it once was insanely hoping it'll return. I've sat because quite honestly I just couldn't move...I was stuck. Mental anguish physically exhausted me that I lied back unable to hold myself up any longer. As I lay on my back my sight shifted from what was around me to what is above. The Creator. The Creator of the building and all that surrounds it; above it and below. First, I stood in the ashes until I regained my focus. Then I sat in the rubble until I became aware of the significance of a well structured place. Now I lay and look to the place above and see w/ a clarity I've never had to have before. I'm unable to stand and don't know that I'd won't to ever stand again. As I lay I am unable to look anywhere but up. As I lay I recognize I'm unable to do anything in my own strength. As I lay I gain rest for what lies ahead. As I lay I come face to face w/ the bricks that built such a phenomenal building. Bricks of unwavering faith, integrity, long suffering, unconditional love, inner peace, quiet strength, unselfish servant hood. Were these bricks left in the rubble for me to rebuild a new place that becomes another persons safe haven, refuge, security? Have I existed in the former place long enough to know the blueprint so that I can now construct a similar model. Is this how the former building came into existence in the first place?? As I lay, I am carefully studying the debris of a once beautiful creation my eyes have ever seen and aspire to make something beautiful from it once more.

I know he's in a better place but where am I??

I'm a Child and Human Develpment and Family Studies Major. During my course of study I had to learn the stages of grief, plan MY funeral (that was deranged), and attend several funerals as a way of studying such a fragile time in a persons life. I said all of that to say, intellectualy and spiritually I Get Death! Although, I have a degree that says I know how to mourn the death of a loved one my degree did not prepare me to mourn the death of my life that I once knew. Every day since my dad's passing teases me of his absence.

• I'm not able to call him after watching one of our favorite shows to debrief about the show.



• He's not there to pick up my son(s) from the bus stop anymore.



• I no longer get emails from him throughout my work day.



• I'm getting past due lunch statements from my sons schools because he's no longer here to pay on their books.



• My husband and I had to scramble to find a way home for my son when the school called becuase he had become ill. My dad was always on stand by (the boys school would call him before they would call me or my husband).



• I am unable to meet him at our favorite breakfast spot on Saturdays.



• His face will never be in the crowd at any of the boys school, church, or extracuricular events.



• I will not be able to call him to update him on my students, my job, or life.



• David will never come home again and tell me about a profound conversation he had with my dad.



• The boys will never call me again while they're with their PaPa and tell me something goofy he has done while he's protesting in the background.



• I will never again get a comment on FaceBook from a friend saying they saw my dad at the store.



• My boys will not run in the house anxious to give me a "goody bag" that my dad put together for me with all my favorite snacks after their weekend stay at their grandparents.



• I won't get a mysterious package in the mail because he ordered me the latest and greatest gadget.


• I will never see him again.

I can go on and on and on. And those are just the day to day occurances. I haven't even gotten into our annual traditions, holidays, or flowers he sent me every year on my birthday from Kindergarten til my most recent birtday... How will I feel this year when they don't come for the first time in my life? I feel sick in the pit of my stomach when I think of the life I once had the life that will never return. I feel like I dined at my favorite restaurant, had my left overs placed in a to go container, went the next day to retrieve the left overs from the frig, mouth watering with anticipation...and the left overs are gone!! My soul is still yerning with anticipation but my dad is gone.

The past weeks have represented how much of a strong and constant presence he was in my life (our life). If I had an opportunity for my dad to come back to earth for a little while longer I would decline. How could I ever ask my father to come back here after experienceing such a beautiful treasure as Heaven?? I know he's in a better "place"...I'm just not sure what "place" I'm in.

Blah!

I'm not sure where to begin...I'm still trying to digest my past two weeks. I guess to process or digest what has occurred would mean accepting what has occurred. Which is probably why it's so hard to swallow my reality. Simply put, I'm not ready to accept.

I can vividly remember Oct. 12 the day my father entered the hospital for a routine surgery. He was only expected to be there for a week and back home he would go. However, 95 days later he went home but not the home I expected. Jan. 15, 2011 at 8:33pm I witnessed my father take his last breath.

Sometimes I feel like if I would have known what my father's destination would have been I wouldn't have asked him to fight so hard. I wouldn't have been by his side through 7 surgeries and countless procedures. It makes me physically sick to have witnessed all my father endured only for him to come up short at the end of his journey. Those 95 days were inhumane and torturous. The mind and body was not meant to sustain such stress and changing emotions. My marriage and my children took a tremendous hit as I spent every opportunity at the hospital to be by my fathers side. And now that he is gone I'm left to pick up the pieces. The first time ever in life that I've had to pick up the pieces without him.

I feel so lost in this world now. Things that once brought me joy insult me. I am so disappointed that I am forced t go on with every day life without my best friend. I don't even know what life looks like without him.

I have such a void inside of me. A constant throbbing ache within. Every morning I wake up I'm reminded of my lost. Lord have mercy on me and have mercy on my soul.

I feel like my father and I have ridden together on this journey of life and he abruptly dropped me off in the middle of no where never to return. I feel like I'm stuck in the middle of no where waiting on my father to come back. Come back and get me. Come back and complete the ride. Please come back...

My father was so amazing!! He single handily was the best person I've ever met. I loved and cherished him because he first loved and cherished me. I adored my father. I adore my father.

I hope in time I will be able to digest my father's passing. Even as I type those words (father's passing) and reread that sentence my mind does not know how to fully comprehend that statement. But hopefully in time my mind will begin to comprehend. Hopefully in time I will begin to pick myself up from the middle of no where and find my way through life again.

I pray that my emotions does not appear as ungrateful before my Creator. I'm so thankful for experiencing such a treasure as my dad. I wanted to be stronger in this moment. I wanted my faith to help me hold it together. I wanted to show my strength at a time of weakness. To be brutally honest, I haven't been able to go in my prayer since that fatal day. My prayers get chocked as I become overwhelmed with sadness.

I know God is Good. I know God makes no Mistakes. I trust God's will before my will. But my carnal being limits me at this time.

At this time I feel like Blah!