Baby boy peacefully sleeping,
Dishwasher running,
My love strumming his guitar,
Cat snuggling at my feet,
Dogs snoozing,
Mama drinking her chai latte.
Perfection
How are you spending your Saturday night?
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Sunday, June 19, 2011
What I know now...
I have been intentionally avoiding this blog for several months. Up until this point, it has been focused mostly on my role as a mother and our son. These days I find it hard to limit myself to those topcis. I feel like once I get the blank space that I need to write my feeling and what I am going through. But then I fear that the content will be too heavy and don't want to make anyone sad but the truth is I am sad..a lot. So if the makes you sad, I am sorry but in order to help me grieve I have to start letting this out.
My life forever changed on March 11, 20011 and I cannot hide that. My (step) father, the only real father I ever had was murdered by someone whose face has not yet been revealed. I am laden with guilt about the separation in our relationship and my failure to ever really express my gratitude for what he did for me. Does that mean he was perfect? Certainly not. But again he was the father who was there for me when my biological father fell through time after time. I find myself longing to have that gruff voice on the other end of the phone just one more time. All of the sayings are so true that you never really know what you have until it is gone. I am still unable to fully express the pain that overwhelms me frequently. It is gut wrenching. I have this sense that my heart has been torn apart. I try so hard to mask this emotion for the benefit of those around me but it is so hard. It is funny how much you understand after the fact and how if you could have just five minutes to talk to your loved one again, it would mean all the world. Here I am on Father's Day, after a day of celebrating with my husband and his family, and I feel fatherless.. Of course, the day was amazing and we enjoyed our visit to the family farm but that has ended and it is night once again. Why is is that night is the hardest?
I ask those of you who read this to please keep my family and I in your prayers. This is not something you move on from, you simply find another way to live and honor that person. Daddy, please know I am trying my hardest each day to do that for you.
My life forever changed on March 11, 20011 and I cannot hide that. My (step) father, the only real father I ever had was murdered by someone whose face has not yet been revealed. I am laden with guilt about the separation in our relationship and my failure to ever really express my gratitude for what he did for me. Does that mean he was perfect? Certainly not. But again he was the father who was there for me when my biological father fell through time after time. I find myself longing to have that gruff voice on the other end of the phone just one more time. All of the sayings are so true that you never really know what you have until it is gone. I am still unable to fully express the pain that overwhelms me frequently. It is gut wrenching. I have this sense that my heart has been torn apart. I try so hard to mask this emotion for the benefit of those around me but it is so hard. It is funny how much you understand after the fact and how if you could have just five minutes to talk to your loved one again, it would mean all the world. Here I am on Father's Day, after a day of celebrating with my husband and his family, and I feel fatherless.. Of course, the day was amazing and we enjoyed our visit to the family farm but that has ended and it is night once again. Why is is that night is the hardest?
I ask those of you who read this to please keep my family and I in your prayers. This is not something you move on from, you simply find another way to live and honor that person. Daddy, please know I am trying my hardest each day to do that for you.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Grief
It is amazing how each day turns into the next and most days are filled with joy but then there are other times....other times when I am sitting at home or in the car when the grief hits me. The pain is indescribable and it just sweeps over me. It nearly brings me to my knees and makes me hurt like I never have. On those days, I am lucky to be able to glance to my side and see my love who is there whose is holding my my hand. On those days, I could care less who did what or said what in an arguement. It is on those days where I feel so blessed to have been given someone who can reach down and grab the pain from me. I may never again be able to hear my father's voice or feel his embrace but I am still blessed.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)