Thursday, January 26, 2012

I don't want this

"I don't want this."
I think that to myself at least once a week. If I'm having a very good week. If.

On a bad week it can be once a day.
Today? "I don't want this ring.  The one I bought that has Dad's birthstone.  The one I bought as a gift to myself in memory of him."
Last week? "I don't want my friend (my amazing, wonderful dear dear friend) to be finishing a quilt made out of his jeans.  Jeans that she can use only because he will never wear them again."
The last two weekends? "I don't want help cleaning and rearranging my apartment. I don't want help staying motivated to actually finish the job.  I don't want to need their help because the grief and depression are so heavy it takes more than I have to finish the job on my own."
Christmas Eve? "I don't want to tell the host we only need a table for 4.  Sister's boyfriend should make a table of 5, not 4."
October wedding? "I don't want to think about who might walk me down the aisle because he can't."

I haven't blogged much at all since October.  A part of me is sorry about that.  Another part of me wants to explain away that I've been focusing on finishing my last NaNo novel.  And the part that is still a raw and gaping wound wants to tell you that I haven't written because I've (apparently) been in a fair amount of denial about how much this still hurts.

I wonder sometimes if people expect me to be "better" in the grief.  No one expects you to "get over it" or to "move on" and I've had a lot of people tell me how well they think I'm doing and how much I impress them.  But, then I wonder if they would be surprised at the depth of my grief right now as I sit on my couch and the tears stream down my face and I hold my breath as I cry and then sob when I can't hold it any more.  I can't get the lyrics from Adele's Someone Like You out of my mind.

I had hoped you'd see my face
and that you'd be reminded
that, for me
it isn't over .

Nights like tonight it's almost as fresh as it was a week after he died.  It seems like it hasn't been that long since I sat in a chair in the living room and held his hand while his spirit drifted away.  Nights like tonight where the paradox is that it also feels like he's been gone for years. Like it's been forever since I heard his voice or kissed his stubbled cheek.

I admit, these days where the depth of my grief feels bottomless and I feel so very alone in the world are, in reality, becoming fewer and farther between.  But, I wonder.  I don't know why, but, I wonder if my friends would be surprised at how strongly I sometimes want to throw the plants across the room. If they would be surprised by the weight of grief I bear every day if I truly tried to express it in a way they could understand; or, if I could give it to them for just a minute.  Would they be astounded that I am keeping a job? That I am paying my bills (mostly on time)?  That I am mentoring college students?  That I am investing in my friendships?  That I am not literally floored for hours at a time?

A part of me answers "What choice do I have?  What is my other option? To let the depression take over? To let myself cease to function? To start calling in sick to work and laying on the couch watching Harry Potter over and over and over again?"  I don't know why I can't, don't, or won't do that.  I have often said, very flippantly, that's just not who I am, that's just not the kind of person I am.  But I am certain that there are people who thought they were as strong as I, apparently, am or truly are stronger, and yet a major loss like this still levels them.  I don't know why I continue to function. I don't know why I can't just give up and lay on this couch and cry until the pillows are soaked and I can barely see because my eyes are so swollen and I have a headache from the dehydration and pressure of it.  (shrug) But I just can't.

What I can say is that Jesus is still my Savior.  God still Loves Me.  My Heavenly Father has given me good gifts and will continue to only give me good gifts.  He has a plan for my life, a plan of hope. And I can say, without the slightest shadow of a hint of a doubt that The Holy Spirit's presence in my soul and mind is the only thing keeping me moving a lot of days.  I don't know why I'm one of those people who continues to function through a tragedy like this.  I do know that God told me a couple weeks ago that this is not simply something to endure.  That this loss is not something to just live with and figure out because it is something we will all go through in life.  He told me that there is a gift inside this loss, inside this journey.  I will have something at the end of this to show for it.  I don't know how tangible it will be or what form it will take.  But I believe that He has a higher plan and purpose for my life and that when I am finished in this world he will bring me home and I will see my Daddy again.  He gave me that gift the day my Dad died, the assurance that Jesus was taking him Home.

So, on nights like tonight I will let myself cry.  I will get a dish towel out of the closet because kleenex are expensive and leave bits of nonsense in your eyes.  I will stop on the way home and get fast food because there is some comfort in certain foods and I won't want to cook anyway.  I will allow myself to not answer the phone and not answer facebook and just lay on the couch and watch something semi-mindless on TV.

I will be gentle with my self and my heart.  I will remind myself that all of this is ok. That no one is judging me for any of it, and if they are they can go to hell and I probably don't care much about that person or their opinion anyway.  I will remind myself that God is still God and regardless of how much I miss my Dad and how angry I am at all these things that I don't want, HE is still worthy of my praise.  I will still Praise Him in this Storm.

   

I was sure by now
That You would have reached down
And wiped our tears away, stepped in and saved the day
But once again, I say, Amen and it's still raining

As the thunder rolls
I barely hear Your whisper through the rain, "I'm with you"
And as Your mercy falls I raise my hands
And praise the God who gives and takes away

And I'll praise You in this storm and I will lift my hands
For You are who You are no matter where I am
And every tear I've cried You hold in Your hand
You never left my side and though my heart is torn
I will praise You in this storm

I remember when I stumbled in the wind
You heard my cry, You raised me up again
But my strength is almost gone
How can I carry on if I can't find You

As the thunder rolls
I barely hear Your whisper through the rain, "I'm with you"
And as You mercy falls I raise my hands
And praise the God who gives and takes away

And I'll praise You in this storm and I will lift my hands
For You are who You are no matter where I am
And every tear I've cried You hold in Your hand
You never left my side and though my heart is torn
I will praise You in this storm

I lift my eyes unto the hills
Where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord
The Maker of Heaven and Earth

I lift my eyes unto the hills
Where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord
The Maker of Heaven and Earth

And I'll praise You in this storm and I will lift my hands
For You are who You are no matter where I am
And every tear I've cried You hold in Your hand
You never left my side and though my heart is torn
I will praise You in this storm
And though my heart is torn
I will praise You in this storm

1 comment:

  1. I love you. And please remain gentle on yourself. There is no magical timeline and certainly no expectations from those who love you. God promises to be close to the brokenhearted. (psalm 34v18)

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