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crying is okay

Monday, June 30, 2014


one year.

i miss my dad. i watched his memorial video/slideshow last night and it opened the wound afresh. the wound i keep tightly covered with a bandaid every day, in fear that the sadness will overwhelm. i believe there is a balance...between the grief and choosing joy. yesterday i let myself feel the weight of grief, and i know it's okay. i felt so weak. i felt that i was weak to be so upset.

i cried because i don't remember his voice. i don't remember him telling me he loves me with his own voice. he used to always do that. "i love you kambly. i'm proud of you."

i cried because as i make decisions with my husband, i wish i could ask his opinion. i wish i could talk to him about saving for the future and living in the now. i wish he would tell me all the things he learned about money....just one more time.

i cried because i miss him and baseball. i miss him explaining things and cheering for teams that are no good.

i cried because life has moved on. people's lives have moved on. mine has in some ways, but also not. i still remember. and it is still fresh to me.

i cried because i don't feel like i'm his daughter anymore. i know i am, but i don't feel like it. it's been so long. i miss having a daddy. i miss an earthly daddy.

i cried out of anger. i hate that he won't be there in the hospital when i have my first child someday. i hate that he will never know that i want to give my child his name. i hate that he won't ever be able to hug me and cry tears of joy because of the beautiful human(s) that jesus will give me and ben someday. i hate that he won't be there. i feel angry he won't get to take care of my kids. i feel so angry he won't ever know how many kids ben and i will have or if we will adopt.

i cried out of envy. it's wrong to be jealous, i know. but i envy people who still have their dad to call, text, hug, love, cherish, send cards to, get angry at, or just be with.

i cried because even though it has only been a year, so many things are new in my life that he will never know about. our new apartment. our dog. my love to cook. our new goals. so many things began after he left.

i cried because i miss his love of food. i miss him taking me out to eat. i miss him getting sunflower seeds and drinking coke, my favorite. i miss him laughing at ben's silly jokes.

i cried ugly, BIG, nasty tears. and ben was there. and jesus was there. and they held me. i couldn't breathe.

no, it hasn't gotten easier. no, time hasn't made it better. no, i don't miss him less.

yes, jesus is still good! yes, i still have the hope He has given me! yes, He gives me peace every single day! yes, there are so many good things in my life! yes, i am happy!

to apey, laur and lads: thank you for saying, "i'll be there when you need me." and thank you for knowing when i need to be alone.
to my family: thank you for getting it.
to ben: thank you for holding me and never letting me go.
to jesus: thank you for your grace, you overwhelm me with your goodness and faithfulness every day. your love knows no limits.

it's a journey. it's healing to write about sometimes.

kambly

1 comment:

  1. I haven't lost my dad, but my husband has. And, in a way, I guess I kind of did. But I won't say I know your pain... Thursday will be a year for us, too, and this made me cry because it is so beautiful, so real, and so raw. I didn't understand why people KEPT grieving, until Mike died. And now I know that grief never, ever stops. And it never heals. It just gets held back so we can put one foot in front of the other, until something brings it back up again. The sound of a motorcycle, the silhouette of strong shoulders and a baseball cap. The feeling that he's right there, if you just turn quick enough to look.

    Thank you for posting this... If it were me, it would have been the hardest thing in the world, to bare my soul not just to my husband and my friends, but to the world. Thank you for it, though, because so many of us grieve in silence because we think it's wrong for us to feel weak and vulnerable and alone. To feel like our heart has shattered and won't ever be the same. So thank you for being strong enough to show it.

    Hugs, even though I've not seen you in years. :)

    Stevie

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