Even in laughter the heart is sorrowful; and the end of that mirth is heaviness.
Proverbs 14:13
Last week was spent back in a place I considered home. It wasn't for pleasure, it was to say my final farewell to my dad. He had passed away and I was determined to make it to his service. My desire was to not only honor my dad as he should be honored, but to help my sister. She had been dad's care-giver for the previous eight years. She not only helped my dad when he was unable to care for himself, she restored his dignity when medical necessities deemed it necessary. Her willingness to love dad through the process of his death has overwhelmed me.
As I spent time alone with her in conversation about dad, I realized many things about myself. Had I done enough? Had I told dad enough that I loved him? Should I have been more active in his life? Should I have shown more love? Each of those questions came at a time when my heart desperately wanted to heal. I suppose it is only natural that we question what we could have/should have done when loved ones have passed, but for me, it was more than just contemplation.
I had thought about the years that I had spent with dad. The moment my son was born, dad was just outside my hospital room door. When my daughter was born, dad trekked what seemed like a mile, through the corridors to meet his new grand-daughter. When we experienced loss, dad was the first one at graveside ~ comforting me, even through his own grief and physical limitations. I thought about the times that my husband and I had helped him with his yard and the odds and ends around mom and dad's house. Although we performed many tasks, we were not the only ones to help. My siblings did their fair share of helping in one way or another.
I could not help but wonder if dad really knew that I loved him to the depth that I do. It saddened me to think he passed from this life not knowing the impact he had made on my life. His love of God, his country, and his family was the center most part of his life. His heart revolved around his children and grandchildren. Each breath he took was a gift and he continually reminded all of us of this.
It has only been a week, and as I sit at this laptop, I want nothing more than to cry. I am upset that I cannot talk to dad just one more time, that my children will never know their grandfather through their adulthood, that my sister's heart is too heavy to bear. I know that although I want to let the tears flow, I can't.
It's not that I feel tears are a sign of weakness, it is that if I continue to stay in this pit of grief, I will never move on to the place I need to be for me, for my husband, for my family. So, I have chosen to smile.
I choose to smile because even though my heart is broken, I have the comfort and confidence that God is with me and I can make it through this difficult time. I know that with my smile, others will know that my faith and trust is in God alone and not within my emotions only. My smile welcomes the opportunity for healing, the presence of strength, and the hope that my heart will once again mirror my face.
There is a time for everything, but today, I will smile .........
Proverbs 14:13
Last week was spent back in a place I considered home. It wasn't for pleasure, it was to say my final farewell to my dad. He had passed away and I was determined to make it to his service. My desire was to not only honor my dad as he should be honored, but to help my sister. She had been dad's care-giver for the previous eight years. She not only helped my dad when he was unable to care for himself, she restored his dignity when medical necessities deemed it necessary. Her willingness to love dad through the process of his death has overwhelmed me.
As I spent time alone with her in conversation about dad, I realized many things about myself. Had I done enough? Had I told dad enough that I loved him? Should I have been more active in his life? Should I have shown more love? Each of those questions came at a time when my heart desperately wanted to heal. I suppose it is only natural that we question what we could have/should have done when loved ones have passed, but for me, it was more than just contemplation.
I had thought about the years that I had spent with dad. The moment my son was born, dad was just outside my hospital room door. When my daughter was born, dad trekked what seemed like a mile, through the corridors to meet his new grand-daughter. When we experienced loss, dad was the first one at graveside ~ comforting me, even through his own grief and physical limitations. I thought about the times that my husband and I had helped him with his yard and the odds and ends around mom and dad's house. Although we performed many tasks, we were not the only ones to help. My siblings did their fair share of helping in one way or another.
I could not help but wonder if dad really knew that I loved him to the depth that I do. It saddened me to think he passed from this life not knowing the impact he had made on my life. His love of God, his country, and his family was the center most part of his life. His heart revolved around his children and grandchildren. Each breath he took was a gift and he continually reminded all of us of this.
It has only been a week, and as I sit at this laptop, I want nothing more than to cry. I am upset that I cannot talk to dad just one more time, that my children will never know their grandfather through their adulthood, that my sister's heart is too heavy to bear. I know that although I want to let the tears flow, I can't.
It's not that I feel tears are a sign of weakness, it is that if I continue to stay in this pit of grief, I will never move on to the place I need to be for me, for my husband, for my family. So, I have chosen to smile.
I choose to smile because even though my heart is broken, I have the comfort and confidence that God is with me and I can make it through this difficult time. I know that with my smile, others will know that my faith and trust is in God alone and not within my emotions only. My smile welcomes the opportunity for healing, the presence of strength, and the hope that my heart will once again mirror my face.
There is a time for everything, but today, I will smile .........