I’m exhausted.
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?
I’m scared.
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.
So beautifully written, Heather. The grieving process is different for everyone, but it will get better I hope. I love you, sweetie. These posts get me every time. Dad would not want you to be sad. Keep running and keep up the good work. I love you!
You won’t forget the sound of his voice.
You won’t forget his laugh.
You won’t forget the funny things he said. I watch movies now that we used to watch together, just so I can hear his voice in my head.
You will probably think of him every day.
It will get less painful, but the pain won’t ever go away.
There are 3 days of the year that are just awful for me. His birthday, Father’s Day, and the day he died. Now, I try to plan stuff to distract me with, but inevitably I will watch TV or movies until I fall asleep, because if i don’t, he would be all I would think about.
Love you!
Things that help us:
— The degree to which you love is the degree that you will grieve.
— The amount of space the person had in your heart is the size of the hole that they leave.
— Each person grieves differently.
We have benefited from reading Gary Roe’s work. God provided the link to Kathy shortly after Amy died. http://www.garyroe.com His book Shattered, is about losing a child, but I think it might help you as well. Let us know if you want to borrow a copy.
You, sweet child, are such a blessing! There is so much love spilling out of every line in your blog. Each time you tag me with a new post I’m anxious to see your precious dad one.more.time through your eyes. You two shared a lot of love over your, let’s just say, 30+ years together!😊 Of course you miss him and you will continue to, but you’ll always remember him and hold him right next to Jesus in your heart! Your dad will always be a loving part of us! As I write this, I can see him putting his head down with a big grin on his face, stepping back and giving out one of his infectious laughs! Your mom’s 100% correct, your dad does not want you to be sad! I love you darlin’ girl!❤️
This was so beautiful, Heather. You don’t know me, but I grew up with your Dad and his siblings. Sunday after church get togethers and going to Monicals on Sunday nights occasionally were some of my fondest memories. I was one of the Gibbs kids and your dad and my brother, Greg, were good buddies. I remember your precious father being one of the nicest guys around. He was so good looking and had so much going for him and exhibited no ego, but was kind to everyone. He worked with my dad some and our family loved him and your family so much even though we all ended up scattered all over and were not in touch much. My prayers are with you as you grieve and I think of your sweet mom and your family often. Just wanted you to know. 🙂
Please, my dear, make this into a book, so your kids and grandkids can know and appreciate the awesomeness of your father and the talented writer that let us share her beautiful thoughts with us.
Prayers to you and your family. I stayed off social media for the first couple mother’s days. Life is not fair, but it goes on.
Rose