It will take time.That's what many people would say when we lost my Dad just over eight months ago. Friends and family were very comforting, yet I didn't want it to take time. In that moment, I wasn't wanting to make it all better. I wanted my Dad. I've accepted that he's gone even though we didn't get to say goodbye, but I find myself holding on to memories to keep him close to my heart.Memories like the time he sat by the pool in shorts and a John Deere hat, watching proudly as I tried to teach Griffin to overcome his fear of swimming. He would shout out words of encouragement in between puffs on his cigar, and Griffin would take bigger risks with each try. These moments make me smile.Yet, I'm also holding on to tangible stuff.A receipt from McDonald's where Dad bought his last coffee, a piece of wallpaper from his home, the last grocery list he wrote. I look at it from time to time and smile, admiring the way he wrote in all caps. I saved the gift box that held the bracelet he and mom gave me for Mother's Day, and I tucked away our family photo that was used on his last Christmas card. The Butler Bulldogs t-shirt that I got him is now in my closet, and I sometimes pull out a pair of his thick, white socks and put them on my feet to help me feel close.I do these things to help ease the pain.We all have our own way of grieving. Some may say that gathering pine cones that dropped from the trees around his pool is silly, but I still found myself collecting the sticky things last month and placing them in a plastic bag. What I will do with them I don't know.The sun continues to rise each day, yet it sometimes feels like the hourglass of life got knocked over and sand is just barely sifting through. And who knows, time may one day ease the pain. Until then, I'm holding on to the things Dad left behind.Pinecones and all.
Friday, April 24, 2009
Holding On
It will take time.That's what many people would say when we lost my Dad just over eight months ago. Friends and family were very comforting, yet I didn't want it to take time. In that moment, I wasn't wanting to make it all better. I wanted my Dad. I've accepted that he's gone even though we didn't get to say goodbye, but I find myself holding on to memories to keep him close to my heart.Memories like the time he sat by the pool in shorts and a John Deere hat, watching proudly as I tried to teach Griffin to overcome his fear of swimming. He would shout out words of encouragement in between puffs on his cigar, and Griffin would take bigger risks with each try. These moments make me smile.Yet, I'm also holding on to tangible stuff.A receipt from McDonald's where Dad bought his last coffee, a piece of wallpaper from his home, the last grocery list he wrote. I look at it from time to time and smile, admiring the way he wrote in all caps. I saved the gift box that held the bracelet he and mom gave me for Mother's Day, and I tucked away our family photo that was used on his last Christmas card. The Butler Bulldogs t-shirt that I got him is now in my closet, and I sometimes pull out a pair of his thick, white socks and put them on my feet to help me feel close.I do these things to help ease the pain.We all have our own way of grieving. Some may say that gathering pine cones that dropped from the trees around his pool is silly, but I still found myself collecting the sticky things last month and placing them in a plastic bag. What I will do with them I don't know.The sun continues to rise each day, yet it sometimes feels like the hourglass of life got knocked over and sand is just barely sifting through. And who knows, time may one day ease the pain. Until then, I'm holding on to the things Dad left behind.Pinecones and all.
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3 comments:
Deborah,
This Saturday, April 25, marks three years that I have lived on this earth without my sister. She died of breast cancer and things have never been the same.
I, like yourself, have the last receipt of when we had lunch for the last time at Applebee's for her favorite blondie dessert...which she could barely swallow. That was weeks before her death. I also have her thumb print, which is cast in gold, that was made the morning of her death (after I finally let go of her hand) that I wear around my neck. My neice recently came across a card that my sister intended to write in, but never got the chance...she didn't have to though, the card said it all. I touch it knowing that she once had done so, and I read it often.
Time has not made it any eaiser, but I have gone from "bitter" to "better" but only by the grace of God, who is ever present and whom strengthens me daily.
I knew your dad, he lived across the street from me. He always waved and smiled from his truck. I knew that your parents must have done something right because every Sunday all of you would come home and have dinner. My husband would always say, "That's what I want our boys to do when they are gone and grown."
Every fourth of July or Memorial Day I could look across the street and see family around and hear lots of laughter. It's those memories that we hold on to and pass on to our own children.
With every new season comes reflection (especially during the first year) after the death of a loved one. Embrace every memory, scent, and feeling and know that it is all part of God's perfect plan and we will once again be reunited with our loved ones!
Warm hugs,
Holly McMullen
I love your blog and can't wait until your book comes out...you have quite a gift...my youngest son has your blog on his "favorites" because he loves to read the stories about your boys:) Keep them coming!
Holly,
Thank you so much for taking the time to write. I first want to say that I am sorry for the loss of your sister. I know what you mean when you say you will never be the same. I will be thinking of you tomorrow on what I'm sure will be a difficult day. Sounds like you had a great relationship with your sis.
Your words that Dad would smile at you and wave were my favorite. I love hearing those things. If I remember right, you have three boys?, and Dad would smile and laugh when he saw them in your driveway.
Thanks so much for reading the blog, and for reaching out. Tell your family I said hello.
Deb
Deb thanks so much for sharing your stories about your wonderful family with your listeners. My grandparents have been gone for almost ten years and I think of them often. My grandma collected red birds,, anything with a red bird on it she hadto have it Today I had to be at work very early, it just happened that I saw a red bird and it kind of made me sad, but then I thought what my grandma always said that when you see a red bird something good is coming your way. Just wanted to share that.
Jane White
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