One Whole Year

 Friday marks one year since the worst day of my life. I never thought I would get a phone call that day from my mom telling me that the paramedics were at their house doing CPR on dad. I remember standing in my driveway until Arnold came home from work to get me, and drove me over there. The whole way there I kept telling myself to have faith and that dad would be ok. When I got there we had to park far away since the firetruck and ambulance were in front of the house. I ran down the road and up to the guys standing at the ambulance. I told them I was the daughter and asked how dad was doing. I thought they would tell me they were working on him or getting ready to take him to the hospital. I never thought in a million years that the words out of his mouth would be "Im sorry for your loss." Those words felt like a sucker punch and to this day if I hear those words in my mind I am instantly transported back to that day and my stomach feels just the same-- like I was punched. 

Over the past year I have learned a whole lot about grief. I have been blessed to not have to experience a lot of big losses in my life thus far. My grandma who I was pretty close to died when I was 15 and that really hurt. But since then things have been pretty great... and Im sure I took having my parents around and closely for granted, although I didn't mean to. I remember joking with my dad just a few weeks before he passed.. he said he had read an article that stated since he had made it to 70, there was a great chance he would live a lot longer and we had plenty of time together. What a cruel joke then that he didn't even made it to his 71st birthday. I thought a lot about my parents getting older actually, in the past year or two. I would cry just imagining them gone from my life, and asked Arnold how I would ever go on while hurting so badly. After dad died I was sad, sure, but I was surprised how I ended up being so strong afterwards, especially the first few weeks. I was able to help mom plan a celebrating of life for dad, view his body and say one last goodbye at the funeral home, stand in the receiving line while dozens and dozens of people came by to hug me or offer their condolences. I think of him often but I never really broke down again after that one time. But this past week it's like something changed in me. I all of a sudden feel the finality of it all, and It set in that he's never coming back. He is not going to see my kids graduate. He's not going to see me reach all the goals I've made for myself. He's not going to be sitting in his recliner in the living room watching sports every time I go over to the house. I guess up until now it felt like he was on a business trip and it was sad he was gone but it wasn't forever. But now I actually feel the ache when I think about the fact that we'll never hug again, never share a joke through text, never go out to lunch at our favorite place. I think my mind was somehow protecting me this far, and I was unable to go to the deepest point of pain because I knew it would be too hard to handle.

Not everything after his loss has been a downer. Mom and I started going to a grief group at a church Arnold and I have been attending. It so happens it is run by my AWESOME KATIE!!! (2nd mama!!) and her husband Steve. We meet every Sunday from 2-4 and we talk to the others in the group, share our feelings, watch videos about how to deal with certain aspects of grief, and we have workbooks to do "homework" that week. I have really come to love and care for these people in my group. I listen to their stories and cry along with them, feel safe sharing about dad, and even though our class is over mid-April, I know a lot of us will keep in touch even after that fact. I have learned some really useful things in the class, and even if I didn't, it's still worth it to me going so I can support mom. Now all I do is worry about mom and her well-being. As much as I hurt, I can't imagine what she went through. Her and my dad were married almost 50 years. They were in love since they were so young. She's now living alone in that big house I grew up in, and thinking of her there and lonely just makes my heart ache. I have done everything I can to try and help her and make this past year easier. We have started going to eat lunch with her every Sunday afternoon. She helps me out by picking up the kids at school and gets her time with them. We try to take her places and involve her in things. All this happening has made me think even more about the future and what it'll be like when I lose her, and I've told her this. To be completely honest, I am terrified. I knew I'd lose my parents oneway, but never expected to lose dad so young, so now I am extra cautious about mom. I want to spend all the time with her I can and not take anything for granted.

There are things about dad I miss so much. I miss his cooking and his famous "crap in a pot." I miss sitting beside him in church on Christmas Eve during the candlelight service. I miss going on trips to lake lure every spring and fall. I miss texting him before Super Bowl and asking him which team I should pull for since I know he knows his stuff. I miss sharing all my achievements with him and making him proud, even as an adult. I miss joking around about who read more books that year, me or him. I miss him calling me Abigail (my realname). He's the only person I'd let call me that. He taught me so much growing up, to work hard, give generously, work at your marriage and don't give up easily. To treat everyone with respect even if they have less than you. To joke around and not always take life so seriously. I know not everyone grows up with a dad that is present and loving, and I know how incredibly blessed I am. Now that I don't have him anymore, I realize even more just how much I had in my life. 

So coming up on the one year anniversary of dad going to heaven-- I'd say we're doing ok. Things will never be the same, but we will have a new normal. Mom finally went through dad's things and decided what to keep and what to give away. Every time I go to their house I sneak away for a minute to sniff some of dad's cologne. I have one of dad's quilts at home now that I intend to keep forever. It was the one he had draped over him actually, the day he died. I also have one of his most-worn t-shirts in my closet. I am glad we have these things to remember him by. But I know the most important things aren't material, they are memories we can hold in our heart. I have been seeing dad a lot in my dreams lately. He is always just hanging around and he looks a bit younger. I welcome any dreams I get of him, it helps things feel just a tad bit more normal. To help me through the tough times I like to imagine him in Heaven with God, and know he has NO MORE PAIN!!! Before his back surgery he was suffering so badly. We went out to lunch just a week before his surgery and when he was ready to get up from the table and leave he apologized to me, that he was taking so long, and that it was hard for him to get up. That broke me. It is so hard to see the dad you grew up with, your hero, the man who played football and gold and mowed the yard and traveled to other countries and helped run a company... barely able to walk. In my selfish human nature I want him back here! Definitely! But I know that he is in the best possible place and because of my beliefs I know that I will see him again one day. I am so excited for that day.