Some days are sad. It's hard to write. It's hard to do what I am supposed to be doing. It's hard to find the joy.
It's hard right now to care about getting out my Christmas decorations. I know it's not Thanksgiving yet.... but i am going to be gone for almost a month... again.
It's hard to pack for a long planned and awaited trip......
I am sad because my dad died last Wednesday.
I am sad because my mom is incredibly sad.
Super sad and yet strong.
It's hard to find words to mouth at my dads memorial. Words become rocks that I choke on..... hard to smooth out the thoughts and emotions and work on to paper.
I will not search for ways to stop this or blot the pain by diversions.
It's okay to be sad. He was a good dad..... he is worthy of me being sad.
Don't misunderstand..... there is joy in knowing the full truth of my dads new home. I am thrilled and amazed that he has entered the gates of heaven. How wonderful... and yet it is mingled with a heart that is struggling.
Love does that....
It strips us bare. It leaves us raw and trembling.
It has to be felt and worked through, like working through a mill, being ground up. I imagine it takes time. Sounds so cliche.
My friend Stephanie sent me this poem last week, after dad died.
It is quite lovely.