As I mentioned in a previous post, I have been considering changing my writing schedule for the summer. This week, I made the decision to start blogging every weekend, instead of every Thursday night. I’m hoping the schedule change will give me and my family more flexibility to travel and enjoy activities.
Today, I received some news concerning my dad’s case, but I am not able to share the details yet. I will share it in the future. Needless to say, I am not really feeling up to writing the blog post I started working on last night. I may come back to it later this weekend. But for now, I would rather write about what’s on my heart.
Throughout my journey over the last 3 1/2 years, I have struggled to reconcile my dad’s horrible death.
Why did it happen? Why him?
Despite all of the speculations, I will probably never know the answers to those questions.
I live every day with a hole in my heart, one that was once filled by my dad. I miss his smile. I miss his laugh. I miss arguing with him and listening to his annoying make-believe stories about Oogly Boogly. I wish I could hug him one last time, and I wish he was here to see my accomplishments, including graduating from college and writing this blog.
In this journey through “no last goodbye”, I have learned how important it is to love others while you still have time. I treasure kissing and hugging my family members each time they walk out the door, knowing it could be the last.
Death does something to you. Even when you live life with eternity in mind, death still leaves a void. It has reminded me that I am not promised tomorrow, and it has made me more aware of how little time I have to make an impact in the world.
I have learned an even greater lesson on a deeper level.
God is faithful!
He is near to the broken-hearted, but so many people miss him because they refuse to reach out to him.
From day one, I chose to keep my eyes fixed toward Heaven, even when it wasn’t easy. Every time I thought I could not take another wave of grief, I cried out to him. I screamed at him. I ugly cried to him.
God was still there.
During every heartbreaking moment and crying fit, I have felt God’s comfort. It is not a comfort that takes away all of the pain; it is a comfort that reminds me I am not alone in the pain.
Tonight, I am thankful for his faithfulness and refusal to let me go. I know the next phase of this journey will probably not be easy, but I am trusting he will be with me through it.
I am ready for another level of closure.