Sometimes, it's hard to separate what I feel inside me. The anxiety that had taken a seat on the back burner for so long is staring me in the eyes. I thought I had a handle on this. I thought once we passed the 1 year mark, life would be a little easier. It's not. Turns out, I think I've been lying to myself for so long that I was okay, that I was healing. I don't think I was doing any of those things. I think I was trying so hard to get back to normal, to get back to the way things were BEFORE. I kept trying to get back to how things were before, but that can't happen. Life will never be the way it was before June 18, 2015.
I think sometimes, we get so caught up with how things used to be that we forget to live our day to day lives in the now. We live so much in our memories of how things were and forget to make new memories.
I need to work on this.
Making my way through Spiritual Growth, Weight-loss and discovering the Woman I can be along the way.
Showing posts with label grief. Show all posts
Showing posts with label grief. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 25, 2016
Tuesday, April 19, 2016
August 19, 2015
Memories flood you when least expected. Never when you want them. Memories that cause rivers of tears to flow when you are not prepared. Memories of moments you desperately wish were not just in your past. Memories you wish you could still create.
I discovered a new song Daddy would have loved called Cinderella by Steven Curtis Chapman; another father-daughter song. It's funny, songs that made me cry hysterically yesterday are making me smile today.
I miss the walks we would take on Tuesday mornings; I keep meaning to get back out there and walk, but knowing Daddy is not able to go with me breaks my heart.
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Healing takes time.
I discovered a new song Daddy would have loved called Cinderella by Steven Curtis Chapman; another father-daughter song. It's funny, songs that made me cry hysterically yesterday are making me smile today.
I miss the walks we would take on Tuesday mornings; I keep meaning to get back out there and walk, but knowing Daddy is not able to go with me breaks my heart.
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Healing takes time.
Saturday, April 16, 2016
August 18, 2015
I wake up praying I've been dreaming. Then I realize it's been 2 months since I've had one of Daddy's bear hug; it's been 2 months since I've heard him say, "I love you." I wasn't ready to say goodbye. I'm still not ready.
I come home expecting to talk to him, expecting him to be there. Or I expect to see his number show up on the caller ID, asking me to pick something up. Walking into the church building is one of the hardest things I do.
Being a Daddy's girl without your Daddy is heartbreaking and gut wrenching. There is a pain that no one can prepare you for when you loose your Daddy. People telling you it gets better makes you want to hit them.
People like to tell you how strong you are. They have no idea how that messes with your grieving process. Telling me I'm so strong because I'm not a blubbering mess on the floor doesn't make me feel better. What telling me I'm strong does is make me feel so extremely weak when I do have a day when all I want to do is cry. A day where all I can do is cry.
Just because you can't see the heartbreak, doesn't mean it is not there. Sometimes, those who seem so strong are crumbling to pieces. I've become good at hiding the pain from others. It's easy to hide when people only watch the surface. People really only see what they want to see. We don't take time to read between the lines to hear what is left unsaid. Often, we don't want to hear the truth. The biggest lie everyone tell is when we answer, "Fine." when someone asks how we are. Maybe the real lie is pretending we care in the first place. We ask, "How are you" as we walk past someone, often without pausing to hear them reply.
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I come home expecting to talk to him, expecting him to be there. Or I expect to see his number show up on the caller ID, asking me to pick something up. Walking into the church building is one of the hardest things I do.
Being a Daddy's girl without your Daddy is heartbreaking and gut wrenching. There is a pain that no one can prepare you for when you loose your Daddy. People telling you it gets better makes you want to hit them.
People like to tell you how strong you are. They have no idea how that messes with your grieving process. Telling me I'm so strong because I'm not a blubbering mess on the floor doesn't make me feel better. What telling me I'm strong does is make me feel so extremely weak when I do have a day when all I want to do is cry. A day where all I can do is cry.
Just because you can't see the heartbreak, doesn't mean it is not there. Sometimes, those who seem so strong are crumbling to pieces. I've become good at hiding the pain from others. It's easy to hide when people only watch the surface. People really only see what they want to see. We don't take time to read between the lines to hear what is left unsaid. Often, we don't want to hear the truth. The biggest lie everyone tell is when we answer, "Fine." when someone asks how we are. Maybe the real lie is pretending we care in the first place. We ask, "How are you" as we walk past someone, often without pausing to hear them reply.
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Grieving is a long and difficult process. Part 1
Over the next few days and weeks, I am going to start posting my journal entries starting a couple months after my father passed away. My journal (that I need to get back to writing) will contain song lyrics, special thoughts, Bible verses and other things that have helped me along this long path of grief and healing. These post are probably going to be some of the most precious things you will read on my blog. It took 2 months for me to pick up a pen and start writing my thoughts down. It's taken me even longer to share these words with anyone else.
Grief is a process and no two people grieve the same way. This is me allowing others on my journey.
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Grief is a process and no two people grieve the same way. This is me allowing others on my journey.
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Tuesday, December 8, 2015
A Little bit of Growth, a little bit of Healing, a whole lot of Faith.
Back in October (the 16th-18th), I had the opportunity to go away on a spiritual retreat with about 50 other members of my church family. Each October, we have what we call our Spiritual Enrichment Weekend (SEW) at Central Florida Bible Camp-- my favorite place on this planet. However, getting on the bus to go was really difficult. Daddy loved going away for SEW and this was the first year without him. I remember calling my mom from the church parking lot telling her I didn't want to go. I couldn't make myself get on that bus. Mom told me to get on the bus and enjoy myself and I'm really glad I did.
I can't count the times I started crying that weekend. There were moments when I would be okay and then moments where all I could do was cry. We sang some of Daddy's favorite songs and I was holding it together until someone looked at me and I lost it.
All weekend, people would come up to me and tell me stories about Dad and favorite memories. I loved every moment. Hearing how much others loved Dad comforted me in a way I didn't think was possible. One of the gentlemen during his devotional talk read a passage, then he spoke for a moment, looked at me and re-read the passage substituting Daddy;s name for the one in the passage.
He talked about how much Daddy was an encouragement to not only him, but everyone in our congregation. OF course, I cried like a baby, but the sad tears were mingled in with the happy. On Sunday morning, I walked down to one of Daddy's favorite spots on campus, the dock, and sat down, turned on one of Daddy's lessons and listened to his voice. That moment on the dock looking over the water and listening to Daddy's voice was the closest I had been to one of his bear hugs since June 15th. While listening to Daddy's lesson, I heard his voice say,
Years before he died, Daddy told me exactly what he wanted me to do. Rejoice and be glad. Daddy is where he has always wanted to be, His largest goal has been achieved.
I am so glad I chose to get on that bus to SEW.
I can't count the times I started crying that weekend. There were moments when I would be okay and then moments where all I could do was cry. We sang some of Daddy's favorite songs and I was holding it together until someone looked at me and I lost it.
All weekend, people would come up to me and tell me stories about Dad and favorite memories. I loved every moment. Hearing how much others loved Dad comforted me in a way I didn't think was possible. One of the gentlemen during his devotional talk read a passage, then he spoke for a moment, looked at me and re-read the passage substituting Daddy;s name for the one in the passage.
Colossians 4:7-8 "Tychicus will tell you all about my activities. He is a beloved brother and faithful minister and fellow servant in the Lord. 8I have sent him to you for this very purpose, that you may know how we are and that he may encourage your hearts." G.S. re-read the verse with "Gene Puckett is a beloved brother and faithful minister and fellow servant in the Lord. I have sent Gene Puckett to you for this very purpose. . . that Gene Puckett may encourage your hearts."
He talked about how much Daddy was an encouragement to not only him, but everyone in our congregation. OF course, I cried like a baby, but the sad tears were mingled in with the happy. On Sunday morning, I walked down to one of Daddy's favorite spots on campus, the dock, and sat down, turned on one of Daddy's lessons and listened to his voice. That moment on the dock looking over the water and listening to Daddy's voice was the closest I had been to one of his bear hugs since June 15th. While listening to Daddy's lesson, I heard his voice say,
"I am not living this Christian life so I can worry about dying. I'm living this Christian life looking forward to when I can leave this earth. . . If you are alive when I die, . . . Rejoice, be glad because I've finally done something I really wanted to do."
Years before he died, Daddy told me exactly what he wanted me to do. Rejoice and be glad. Daddy is where he has always wanted to be, His largest goal has been achieved.
I am so glad I chose to get on that bus to SEW.
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