07 September 2012

365 days

I've written this post several times in my head and many more times on my heart...

It's been 365 days since Dad passed...many days it's hard to believe it's only been a year & other days it seems like only yesterday we were towards the end of his battle with cancer.  As I look back over my blog posts from Sept. of 2011, I realize how much prayer played a part in our day-to-day tasks: the loving care my Mom was able to provide Dad around the home; the decision to admit Dad to the Hospice Cottage; & then the vigilant prayer, visits, cards & love shown by many of you throughout the remaining few days....it becomes bit numbing from time to time to realize just how much pain Dad probably went through in his last few weeks here with us.

I remember the sips of Dr. Pepper or small bites of vanilla ice cream from McDonald's that tasted so good to him...the last Friday night he was with us & gave each of us kids all a replica model of his first JD tractor and was still coherent to tell us he loved us & let us weep at his feet as we said our goodbyes...I journal these fairly personal treasures as a way of keeping them locked in my heart because I know as time passes, Haven grows & my tears become less frequent, my memory of those last few days with Dad will fade...not because of less love...but because healthy healing is taking place.  My tears as I type are very fresh...I miss my Dad---I miss picking up my phone & seeing where he is at with his truck...is he begrudging waiting in line with U. Butch or beating him to the next load? :)  Is he "warshing" that truck of his or bemoaning the fact that IDOT is slathering salt all over the highways during the winter months?  Is he using his fancy GPS to plant his corn or muttering why these fancy new parts cost so much to replace?  I miss those daily conversations.

I enjoy the moments when Haven looks through photo albums of Grandpa & remembers her rides with the mower & wagon...or when she opens up her recorded Hallmark books and I get to hear Dad's voice through my upstairs hallway...I miss that voice.
[thanks Mom for having the foresight to have Dad read those to our children]

Without a doubt, the hardest part to witness since Dad's passing is seeing my Mom grieve so deeply.  I want to hug away her pain...distract her from the lonely nights...kiss away her tears...and yet, I know, deep grieving is the only way to bring healthy healing.  I'm proud of how my Mom has continued living life with such deep hurt~she is a great role model for me on days when things don't seem manageable.  Mom continues meeting with her coffee friends, takes care of her home & yard, buzzes around in her little Ford "hick-up", rarely turns down a social invite & is pretty busy these days smooching on grand kids!  I'm very proud to call you Mom.


No doubt, Dad is up in heaven, shaking his finger or "jeeshing" the fact I'm being so open & honest with my emotions...which, of course, also makes me miss that finger/hand shake of his!  But above all, I realize we are just passing through in this world...we live life here to gain eternity in the end....thanks be to Jesus that this is not our home.

Continue to pray for our family...your prayers are just as important now than ever!  Pray for continual healing, continual strength & continual growth...blessings come in many different forms :)





5 comments:

Ashley Baner said...

Oh Kates. Great post. Perfectly full of memories and good times and horrible aching of it all. I cannot fathom the fullness of your feelings but I can pray to the One who does! Love you!

Schlipf family said...

I have been watching this come..praying comfort for your family..we look forward to a grand reunion someday!

Rebekah said...

thank you for sharing...i know that is not always easy to do. Love ya and weeping with you.

Nancy said...

Ahh Kate...thanks for sharing so beautifully. I weep with you...loved your Dad....(and Mom too!) Makes the longing for heaven so real.

smw said...

such a sweet (bittersweet) post.