I never realized until now just how tiring going through grief can be on a person.
I’m so tired of being sad.
Father’s Day came and went. Seeing everyone’s tributes on Facebook to their dads made me sad. Post after post. People thankful for their dads. I could hardly stand to keep scrolling. I was jealous that others still had their dads here on Earth, to love on and hug, and call and tell them they loved them. And I sat there. Crying. Sad.
To me Father’s Day is everyday.
I think about my Father everyday. Multiple times a day.
Most of the time they’re happy thoughts. But then again… they just end up making me sad.
How much longer will I be sad at the thought of him?
How much longer will I miss him? Wish he were still here with me?
Scared that I’ll forget the sound of his voice. Scared that I’ll forget his laugh. Scared that I’ll forget the funny things he was known for saying. Scared of the day that will eventually come when I don’t think of him everyday.
Ugh. Grief. It’s just exhausting. I’m so over it.
And then not a few days after Father’s Day came what would have been my parent’s 41st wedding anniversary.
Last year we all celebrated with dinner at The Beef House.
We had no idea it would be the last one we would celebrate.
Can we just talk about 40 years here for a second? FORTY YEARS.
My word that’s a looooonnnnnggggg time.
480 months. 14,600 days. 350,400 hours. 160 seasons.
Good times. Bad times. Great times.
Children, grandchildren, a cat, dogs, a fish we thought would outlive us all…
So much crammed into those 40 years.
Is it wrong that I want 40 more?
And then came The Longest Day, June 21st. A day the Alzheimer’s Association designates as a day for people that have loved ones fighting the disease or have passed from the disease to do something that loved one loved doing. I had big plans. I still do have big plans. My Dad loved softball. I wanted to arrange a softball game or tournament or something along those lines, but summer schedules and time restraints prevented me from getting it together. There’s always next year…
But something I could do was run.
My Dad loved running. That boy…. he was running up until the end. He thought the halls of Amber Glenn were a race track.
So, I downloaded a Couch 2 5K app and the Rock My Run app. Bought a new pair of kicks. And I ran.
And it felt good. Actually, it felt great.
One of these days I won’t think of my Dad and immediately be sad.
Just like the 160 seasons that my parents experienced together as husband and wife, this season of grief that I’m going through will one day pass as well. I look forward to this season passing and moving onto the next one.
There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance…
I’m ready to laugh again…
But not today. Not yet.