My Grief Story

My grief story is not really MY story at all. It is God’s story, just as all of life and all of history is God’s story. Mine is but a line in a stanza, a tiny letter probably, in the epic narrative of how He is working all things out for the good of those who love Him.

My hope in making my private grief somewhat public is that you might find healing and inspiration as you journey alongside me to the cross. We all have suffering and loss, but it does not all look the same. Yours may likely be much deeper and more difficult than mine. However, God is the same.

 

Details:

On Sunday, May 26, 2013, my parents woke up and went to Sunday School in Hamilton, Georgia. They were praying for a friend whose mom had died in her sleep. My dad said, “When I die, THAT’S the way I want to go.” Later that afternoon, my dad worked out in his garden. He had been readying the soil and meticulously planting his annual vegetable garden for weeks. Every year my mom would beg him to please plant a smaller one, but my dad always said, “Go big or go home.” He wanted the extra to give away.

He came in from planting his garden that afternoon and said to my mom, “It is finished.” He had completed the garden, and he remarked how he couldn’t believe how good he felt. He sat down to watch the Memorial Day special on PBS, and he called my brother and me on the phone to tell us to turn on the TV. He was such a patriot and loved watching anything honoring our country or our troops.  I got to talk to him for a little while as I walked the neighborhood alone that evening. It was such a gift. He said, “Give everyone a squeeze for me and tell them how much I love them.” And then we said goodbye and hung up the phone. The warm breeze followed me home as I reflected on my many blessings. My heart was full.

At about 2 am, my phone rang. I jumped to my phone seeing “MOM” on the screen. She said, “I think your dad is gone.” And in that moment, I knew that he was. She told me he gasped once and then died peacefully in his sleep.  He did "go big" and "go home" that day, just as he always "loved big" his entire life.
Marcus and I prayed and cried in total shock and disbelief. And then I just lay in bed watching the clock, minute by minute, each second ticking me into a new life without my dad in it. This blog is about every moment since.