Tuesday, December 9, 2008

thoughts, venting, disappointment, etc.

For those of you who were on our mailing list while I was pregnant with Nathaniel (and afterwards) you'll be familiar with my style of writing. I'm a big believer in sharing both the good AND the ugly. I figure that God knows my heart anyways, so there's no point being anything but totally honest... and why not share it all with the blogging universe too??

Other than shedding some major tears in the hours leading up to, and immediately following, my dad's death, I've managed to hold it together quite admirably. While in Regina there were many things to do to get ready for the service and, even though the circumstance were far from ideal, it really was great to visit with friends and family. I love my family - both the immediate and the extended!

However, while we were driving home from the airport yesterday, I was jus totally overcome with sadness. I really can't believe that I'll never see my dad again. I know, I know, it's only for this life... but this is the life I'm living right now, so it's the one I'm focused on! I don't think I'd agree that this is just the "denial" stage of grief, because clearly my dad is dead and there's no denying that. It's just so hard to imagine life without him in it.

I'm really struggling with the "how" of my dad's death. Why he had to go through such a hard year for it to end like this. It doesn't seem fair.

Harder still is that I couldn't be there with him. Even if the outcome were EXACTLY THE SAME -same timeline, etc- had the doctors done those same tests even a day sooner, I would've been able to be there. I wouldn't have to wonder what his last hours were like, what his last words were, what he looked like, etc, etc, ETC. Yes, my family was there and they've told me about it, but it's not the same. I wanted to be with him.

It's like when Nathaniel died... Couldn't we have been given a couple days with him? Or even a few hours? The outcome would've been the same.

I feel like I was robbed of that time - with both of them. I was denied it. And I don't understand why. The variable is obviously me in both these equations.

I know that to the end my dad believed that God never would leave him and never HAD. If he were here, he would remind me of that promise. The thing is, I feel like I can no more easily talk to God as I can talk to my dad. He's just as far removed and just as hard to reach. Or maybe His promises stopped one generation too soon...

I know I'm feeling terribly sorry for myself, but it can't be helped. And really, I don't apologize for it.

I'm mad.

I'm hurt.

I'm disappointed.

I'm heartbroken that my dad won't be here when I give birth in a few weeks, and that my kids will have to grow up without him in their lives... Without his love and care, his challenges and encouragement. Without hearing his laugh and knowing what his hugs feel like. Without ever tasting his corn chowder on Christmas Eve and experiencing him handing out gifts on Christmas morning. Without hearing his terribly lame jokes (over and over), and listening to him ramble on about Montana football. Without getting to about him and learn from him.

When ever I think about him being gone, I just can't believe that I don't have a dad. I'm now one of those people without a father. I'm too young to not have a dad! Sure, it was bound to happen and I never expected him to live as long as is normal for everyone else, but I honestly thought he'd get through this and we'd have a few more years with him. So I guess the joke's on me.

No, I wouldn't want him to be suffering, but I know that he would gladly endure a bit of pain and discomfort in order to be with us. It was only in the last few hours of his life that he came to accept that he was actually going to die. Up until then, he wouldn't consider it. Yes, he was stubborn and, yes, he was often confused these last few months... my point is that he had no intention of dying. He didn't want to and wasn't ready to.

I know that he was ready spiritually. He was right with God... but he didn't want to leave us. I know he wanted to be there to see his grandkids grow up. To see Lynette married and start a family. To see where life would take us all. I know he can still see it from where he's at, but he wanted to be HERE for it.

It doesn't seem fair.

Just so you know, I intend to wallow in this place of being angry and sad until I'm good and ready to move on, so please don't try to talk me out of it...

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