Have you heard the song “Closer to Love” by Mat Kearney”? In it he says, “I guess we’re all one phone call from our knees.”
I imagine most of us have had that experience. Life is just coasting along and everything is hunky dory and then we get that phone call that takes us to our knees.
I got that phone call that took me to my knees the same day I wrote my last blog post, “New Year, New Beginnings”. In that post I talked about my big intentions for the New Year.
My aunt called to tell me that my dad was sick and I immediately bought a one-way ticket and hopped on a plane to go see my dad.
On January 5th he received the diagnosis that he had Stage 4 lung cancer that had metastasized to his brain. He passed away on January 15th.
I am grateful that he didn’t have a lengthy illness. I am also grateful that I was by his side, holding his hand while he made his peaceful transition.
It’s all so surreal. My strong, stubborn, fiercely independent dad is gone from this physical world. I will never get to talk to him again.
It’s so new and it’s still sinking in.
This level of grief is strange and takes me by surprise. One moment I am feeling peace and even joy, and the next thing I know, I am sobbing and feeling deep sadness that he is gone. In those moments, I feel like a big black hole resides inside of my heart.
I was in Tennessee for almost the entire month of January. After my Dad got his cancer diagnosis, he asked to go home to hospice care. So, I took him home and was with him until he transitioned.
After he passed away I had so much to do that I don’t think my grief set in. I was busy planning his memorial service and visiting and reminiscing with family. With the help of my amazing husband, we emptied his apartment that he had lived in for over 20 years.
I returned home just over a week ago and allowed myself last week to grieve and settle in. My husband and I spent the week incorporating my dad’s furniture and personal items that I kept into our home.
I told myself that today was the day I was getting back in the saddle of my writing and work routine. I’m struggling to do so.
My normal Monday morning routine is to post a question to Facebook and start my week off engaging with my tribe. All my questions that I come up with seem trite and forced.
My life has forever changed.
I have lost a part of myself.
I know it will take time for me to adjust my sails to maneuver my way through life without my dad.
So, I have no question today. All I have is my desire to be vulnerable with you, while showing myself grace and compassion.
Grief has proven that it will have its way with me so I have to allow it and be in the moment with myself.
I am grateful for each of you who have reached out to me in countless, loving ways to remind me that I am not alone and that I am loved.