(Forgive the weird placement of punctuation and such...I don't think this program likes Chrome and Chrome is what I'm using.)
When I look back on 2017, I won't think of it as a year of pain, but a year of growth. I made it through each day, even the death of my dad. I am a better me, despite all the hardships. I will take a deep breath and enter 2018 with hope and confidence.
Experiencing Dad's death has me thinking of my own mortality. What I'm most afraid of is that life will go on and i will be forgotten. I know that isn't true. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of Dad and miss him terribly. It will be the same for me as well.
I believe in God. i believe that Jesus died, was buried and rose again. Just as Jesus was resurrected and is alive, so will I be alive when Jesus comes. I think I just don't want to leave my family behind. I want them to live with me in Heaven, too.
Our lives here are but a whisper. Seventy, eighty, maybe a few more years and then we're gone. What is my contribution to the world? The one thing I want to accomplish before I die is to see my family believe. This is my ultimate goal.
About that. I'm trusting God to create opportunities to share and give me the right words to say. I will also pray that God would send workers (and angels) that can present the gospel in a personal way to the hearer.
I'm currently nursing a swollen left hand and a possible broken or sprained finger. I took a tumble (gracefully, of course) at Jeremy's the other evening. As I walked into the house; my shoe caught on the metal strip on the doorway. I was carrying three Christmas gifts; down I went and the packages flew across the floor. I'm sure it was quite comical! I also have bruises on my arm and leg. I have such a fear of falling, which could contribute to why I fall so much.
Joel left to go work out and, hopefully, pick up groceries after. I took advantage of the solitude to give in to the grief I feel over losing Dad. There's still a part of me that feels some disbelief that Dad is gone.
Why is this so hard for me? Most people my age have lost one or both parents; it's not unusual. We were fortunate to have had Dad in our lives as long as we did. Dad was very special. He very rarely got angry, had a witty sense of humor, loved his family, babies and animals. He was proud of serving in Korea, he enjoyed having coffee with his buddies and solving the puzzles on "Wheel of Fortune" every weeknight at 6:30 on Channel 4. He was a man who lived his life on a schedule (at the end) and because we loved him so much, we accommodated him. He was who we lived for, especially the last six months of his life.
It wasn't always easy. I don't know about the other girls, but there were times I was close to my breaking point. Of course, living with Dad exposed me to all the aspects of his dementia; it was frustrating for Dad, too. He didn't understand what was happening to him or why his mind was making him think a certain way.
For that reason, and because he's no longer in pain, I wouldn't want him back in his earthly body. It would be purely selfish on my part. He sleeps. He rests and waits. It's a comfort to know I will see Dad and Mom again.
In about three weeks or so, I'm hosting a family dinner. With spouses and kids, there could be 17 extra people here! I've decided to make beef pot roast with all the fixin's. It'll be a lot of work on my part, but I'm looking forward to it.
Joel had been gone for about two hours now...a good sign that he went to the store after working out. Checking the app "Out of Milk," though, doesn't indicate whether the items I had listed there have been crossed off.
I want 2018 to be my year and so:
I won't sit on the couch and wait for it. I will go out and make a change.
I will smile more. I will be excited. I will do new things.
I will throw away what I've been cluttering. I will unfollow negative people on social media.
I will go to bed early. I will wake up early. I will be fierce. I will not gossip. I will show more gratitude. I will do things that challenge me.
I will be brave.
Jeremiah 29:11 says, "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
Isn't that encouraging? I truly don't have to worry about my future because God is saying to me, "Don't fret and have anxiety over this, Child. I've got this." When I think on this truth, meditate on God's Word and believe, then it becomes real in my life.
The year is coming to a close. I'm glad to see it end. The first half was spent taking care of Dad and watching his decline. The second half was dealing with his death. I don't know which was worse. In fact, grief will take a lot longer. I don't know if I'll ever get used to having Dad gone.
"And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose." (Romans 8:28)
I don't understand how anyone could (or would) go through hard times without the peace and love of God to carry them through.
"For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Romans 8:38)
I love this verse because it tells me no matter where I am, God's love is there for me. Walking through this heartbreaking part of my life is only tolerable because God is with me.
"Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." (Psalm 23:4)
I just returned from outside. There is new snow and, even though it's very cold, the yard and field across the road looks clean and pristine. I inhale, looking for that distinct "wet mitten-fresh snow" scent from childhood. It is faint, yet if I close my eyes, it's there. This makes me happy and I return to a time in my life when both my parents were alive and life, at least for me, was simpler.
I can't even begin to describe how much I miss Dad. Knowing that we're coming up on six months without him is unbelievable. I want to call him. I want to visit him and have him show me his newest finds. To grieve someone is hard. To grieve someone like my dad is nearly impossible.
I just tried calling Dad's home and cell phone numbers. God only knows why. Maybe he had a voicemail set up and his numbers were still active. I hoped. The home number wasn't active and someone else had his cell phone number now. It's just one more point of contact that has been taken from me.
