It's been a moon or so since I posted everything, but Lauren's link up is the only one that doesn't terrify little ol' me and this topic is perfect.
The Day of Fathers.
Lauren, like me, lost her awesome dad far too young and her post is a shining example of how God has worked and blessed her life in the past year. I read it, loved it, and you should, too.
I've written extensively about losing a parent, and one of my first posts was an ode to my father on the fourth Father's Day without him. So I won't belabor that point.
The first few years after he died, there were four time periods that were most difficult: The weeks of February (when he died), his birthday in August, Father's Day, and the holidays. I approached these times with dread and terror. It was morbid that my birthday fell only five days after his death day (oh yes, I called it that). His birthday was awkward because we wanted to memorialize it, but we couldn't actually celebrate it. I hated my once beloved Christmas music because he wasn't there to sing along to the radio. And Father's Day? Father's Day was a twisted joke. I hated it. We would beg our mom not to make us go to church that day. We wanted the dead to walk among the living, not quite literally but almost.
(So gloomy. It gets better!)
The holidays got better first. Our large family is full of laughter and joy, and it drove away the sad memories and strengthened the beautiful ones. His birthday was next. August is just too hot to be sad, really, and it tended to slip by us on the calendar. His death day was acknowledged by discussing our feelings, and at the five year mark, I got engaged. Something he would have approved of. And this year, Landon was born the day after the seventh anniversary of Daddy's death. Life changed, bloomed, and ticked on.
Finally, Father's Day. I realized a couple years ago that I could either spend the day saddened that my father wasn't with me anymore, or I could spend it relishing the beautiful memories I had. I had an amazing father. Someone who loved me, provided for me, taught me how to work, think, and laugh. I had so much more than many people. I had been given an exquisite gift, and I needed to start expressing gratitude for it, instead of wishing it stayed longer.
This process took me years, around five, I think. It's natural and healthy to intensely grieve a lost parent on the days that so sharply remind us of our loss. Humans are created to love, but with love comes pain. But I couldn't spent a decade grieving one loss in my life, completely hating a silly day on a calendar. I let myself be sad on February 5th because it's a sad memory. But only for the morning. In the afternoon, I'm happy because of the joyful memories that occurred five years later.
So on Father's Day this year, I was happy. Happy to relive the memories of my childhood. I recalled the trips across the country, lessons about history and culture, and my father's dreams for his children. I celebrated Father's Day in that way.
This Father's Day was even better because I now have a baby, a baby that has a father who adores him, cares for him, and champions for him. I want Landon to have what I had: the knowledge that I was loved and adored by my earthly father, and he has that. What more could a girl want?
No comments:
Post a Comment