May 26, 2014
Dear Dad,
I feel melted inside- like if it weren’t for my bones
holding up my frame, I would collapse into a puddle on the floor. It turns out
there is nothing magically healing in the one year anniversary (eve) of your
death like I truly hoped there would be. There is only the distinct replaying
in my mind of every detail, every tremor of shock and gallon of tears that still
leaves me numb and fumbling for the way. It’s all back, perhaps with greater
perspective but with the same searing agony that makes me feel physically sick.
I guess there are more moments when I remember you without
crying, but today has been filled with other kinds of moments. I lit twenty matches
in the wind trying to do sparklers with my kids. I watched beautiful red roses
wilt on your grave. I was short with my husband. I made the long trek home from
Hamilton while squinting through tears. I sat at the pool while
my kids swam and all I could think about was how that was the last place I ever
saw you, ever hugged you.
There is no timeline for grief. And if the
measure of our love for someone determines the length and depth of our grief,
then I know mine will never end. That is the kind of love we had… have.
For three hundred sixty-four days I have struggled to come
to grips with the fact that I will not see your face or your great big smile until I am in heaven, too. That is hard for me to wrap my
mind around. Every fiber of me misses
you, but there is not a piece of me that doubts God ‘s undeniable goodness and
that He is at work in ALL things, even this. Thank you for teaching me that,
Dad.
You were in every way an extension of Jesus Christ in my
life. You were His hands and feet. I
will never believe that any earthly father ever loved his daughter more
perfectly than you did. You loved me unconditionally and encouraged me every
day of my life. When you died, I lost a tangible part of Jesus, and I think
that is what makes it hurt all the more.
When I find my thoughts drifting to you, I can’t help but
thank God for you. I did nothing to deserve you. You were God’s greatest gift
to a little girl who needed to grow up being told how special she was, how
beautiful, how kind, funny, and how gifted she was. You did that so well and so often that I
believed you.
Every time I have gone on a walk this last year, I remember
your presence next to me, talking and making a thousand memories. I still feel
you pushing me on, encouraging me to run with perseverance the race set before
me. And when the sun is shining warm on my face, I remember so much laughter
and a lifetime of happiness with you in it.
Thankfully, there was nothing unsaid between us. I know and
have always known how much you adore and cherish me. And you knew and know how
much you mean to me. No words on a page could ever describe what only a heart
could say.
Thank you for your indescribable love, for loving Marcus and our girls the same way, and for never giving me a bad memory of you. Thank you
for standing behind me and picking me up out of my most bitter disappointments
and heartbreaks. You were always the one who did that. (Wow, I need you now!)
Thank you for loving mom as perfectly and as selflessly as a
sinful man ever could. Thank you for doing everything you could to help anyone
who needed it and for the many letters of encouragement to me, Travis, and
countless others. Thank you for giving me roses a hundred times at least, and
helping me understand that I was worthy of a man of God.
Thank you for bringing JOY everywhere you went. I am fully
aware that I might never laugh the way only you could make me laugh, and I will
probably never light up quite the same way as I did when you were in the room. But
I will ALWAYS carry JOY with me and the happy remembrance of 34 years I shared
with an extraordinary man.
Until Jesus calls me to come home, I will try every day to
honor you, to honor Christ. I will try to love our family the way you did. And
I know that I will never stop missing you, grieving you…loving you. I would not wish you back from where you are, well, maybe a
little. But I know that your faith is now sight. You are seeing Jesus face to
face. I long to be there, too.
Please listen out for when my name is called. I will be
looking for you. My tears will have long dried out. My sadness will be no more.
I will have my arms spread out wide and I’ll be running.
I love you,
M.G.
“Therefore
you too have grief now; but I will see you again, and your heart will rejoice,
and no one will take your joy away from you. “ John 16:22
