Grieving, waiting for the mourning to be turned into dancing
My heart gets heavy, I think, more easily now that I have lost my Dad. Three years ago, I moved back to Topeka to spend the remaining time my parents might have on this earth near them. Of course, I had no idea what this might involve.
I feel closer to eternity now. I feel closer to my own mortality. I read recently in a book that I "should" not think of heaven as the place where my father is, but the place where the Lord rules. Don't you just love "shoulds?" I don't .
My earthly father was the father who was here in person, in flesh and blood. I could hug him and hold his hand and he would kiss mine. Now he's in heaven. Or, at least, I believe that's where he is. This may be the greatest test of my faith of all. Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief.
I know I would not have had a father at all if not for my Heavenly Father, God. I also believe the father He gave me was a very special father. Since he has died I have learned more about him than I ever knew when he was alive.
I found out he was passionately against divorce when he was a young man and a judge, which he was for several years. Now I understand better how devastating it must have been for him to become divorced himself. And then to have had two more divorces after the first one with my mother.
My mother started it all. Thinking all of this through becomes kind of an obsession which recurs every time I go see my mother, who right now can do nothing but lie down on a couch. She basically cannot move any part of her body.
After the divorce she turned to drink, and now her body is reaping the consequences, or at least that's what the daughters think. The sons seem a bit more understanding. One of them, especially, my half-brother, who lives with her and feeds her through a tube. I just go sit with her a couple of times a week.
The questions I want to ask her but don't include, "Why do you think he strayed?" I do not believe a marital breakup is all one person's fault, but I know some people never take responsibility for their part in anything. Yes, I am working through all those feelings too.
I miss my dad. He was fun and affectionate and I enjoyed going to visit him even when his dementia had made it difficult for him to communicate. He still expressed and received love and he knew me and for that I am grateful to God.
I miss him. I have his clothes hanging in my closet. They still bear his scent. When it gets really bad I go in the closet and bury my face in his shirts and say, "Oh, daddy," and cry.
Yeah, it's bad. The time I was able to visit him in the nursing home was such a gift from God. I thank Him for it with all my heart. I am looking for the day when the Lord will turn my mourning into dancing, but I honestly wonder if it will happen this side of heaven.
I feel closer to eternity now. I feel closer to my own mortality. I read recently in a book that I "should" not think of heaven as the place where my father is, but the place where the Lord rules. Don't you just love "shoulds?" I don't .
My earthly father was the father who was here in person, in flesh and blood. I could hug him and hold his hand and he would kiss mine. Now he's in heaven. Or, at least, I believe that's where he is. This may be the greatest test of my faith of all. Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief.
I know I would not have had a father at all if not for my Heavenly Father, God. I also believe the father He gave me was a very special father. Since he has died I have learned more about him than I ever knew when he was alive.
I found out he was passionately against divorce when he was a young man and a judge, which he was for several years. Now I understand better how devastating it must have been for him to become divorced himself. And then to have had two more divorces after the first one with my mother.
My mother started it all. Thinking all of this through becomes kind of an obsession which recurs every time I go see my mother, who right now can do nothing but lie down on a couch. She basically cannot move any part of her body.
After the divorce she turned to drink, and now her body is reaping the consequences, or at least that's what the daughters think. The sons seem a bit more understanding. One of them, especially, my half-brother, who lives with her and feeds her through a tube. I just go sit with her a couple of times a week.
The questions I want to ask her but don't include, "Why do you think he strayed?" I do not believe a marital breakup is all one person's fault, but I know some people never take responsibility for their part in anything. Yes, I am working through all those feelings too.
I miss my dad. He was fun and affectionate and I enjoyed going to visit him even when his dementia had made it difficult for him to communicate. He still expressed and received love and he knew me and for that I am grateful to God.
I miss him. I have his clothes hanging in my closet. They still bear his scent. When it gets really bad I go in the closet and bury my face in his shirts and say, "Oh, daddy," and cry.
Yeah, it's bad. The time I was able to visit him in the nursing home was such a gift from God. I thank Him for it with all my heart. I am looking for the day when the Lord will turn my mourning into dancing, but I honestly wonder if it will happen this side of heaven.
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