Written by
Brittany
This week has
been hard. Thanksgiving is always a hard holiday for me as I am surrounded by
people and yet try to individually prepare myself for the coming and passing of
December 2nd yet again. And this year I have been working to come to
terms with the fact that it has been 10 years, a full decade, since my dad
died.
For someone
under 30, a decade seems like a very long time. It’s over a third of my life. I
remember past years having the thought, “Wow. Three years is a long time to be
without a dad…but it will just get longer…one day it will be ten years.” And
now that day is here. And now I think, “one day it will be 11 years…”
Reflecting on
your Grief is an interesting, humbling process. I was 17 when my dad
unexpectedly passed away, and I spent the next 4 ½ years, basically my whole
college career, angry. Not at any particular people, not even at God, just
angry. I went through the Grief Cycle a few times, each time really hating
that it’s a Cycle, not just a Grief Line. Then I came back to anger and just
got stuck. During this time I know I became selfish in my relationships, and I
am blessed (and kind of amazed) that so many people stuck it out with me. I
know I still struggle with that selfishness. And I often find myself wondering
how I would have dealt with it differently if he had died when I was older,
instead of a weird mix of child & adult.
Grief surprises
you. I found myself preparing myself for days that I thought would be
difficult, like my 18th birthday or my wedding day. Only to pass
those by with very little sadness, and then be totally caught off guard by
other days that I didn’t think to prepare for, like 4th of July or
the day Jadon & I got engaged. And, as happens every year, the week leading up to today has been
more difficult than today itself.
There are many
things I’m still sad about. I’m sad that my dad will never meet and love Jadon.
I’m sad that my dad never knew me as a teacher/wife/missionary/adult. I’m sad
that I only ever knew my dad as a child knows her parent, and not as two adults
know each other. I’m sad that he will never know my children. And I’m sad that
it’s so much harder to recall the sound of his voice or the feel of his hugs.
I, of course,
rejoice in the knowledge that he loved the Lord, and one day I will see him
again. But if you’ve known Grief, you know that while that thought is a blessed
comfort, it’s not every day. Some days Grief is just sorrowful and maddening
and hollow.
Time and the
Lord are such healers, and the day-to-day now is miraculously easier than it
was 10 years ago. It is often easy to speak about my dad, to laugh about things
he said, to share memories with those who knew him and those who didn’t. But
there are also precious moments of remembering that are still very difficult.
I feel like as a
10-year veteran I should have more answers about How To Deal. But I really
don’t. I found people who would love me in a very broken state, and I clung. I
found reassurances from the Lord (Isaiah 41:13 especially), and I clung. I
found humor, and I clung. And I found Grace, and I clung.
I held on very
tightly to things that kept me up. So I guess that’s my great advice: Hold On.
Cling to people, and pets, and God. Cling to light, and humor, and joy. Cling
to your teddy bear, and your favorite songs, and your 6-hour Pride & Prejudice miniseries. There
will be days where you just barely stay afloat. And that’s ok. You Will Make
It, even through days when all you can do is cling with your fingertips.
Each year when I
taught at Olivet, on December 2nd I told all my freshman students
about losing my dad, and coming to school, and being so angry. I told them the
biggest mistake I made was not being honest about how hard it was. And I told
them that if they need someone to be honest with, then they should come find
me. So I guess that’s some advice too: Be Honest. (And if you reading this need
someone, come find me.) I wanted to appear strong, and in control, and “oh, I’m
fine.” But that wasn’t truth, and I suffered more for it.
And one final
thing I’ve learned: Remember Your People. The ones you’ve lost and the ones you
still have.
At our wedding,
Jadon & I had a tea station set up in memory of my dad, and there was a
list of things I learned from him that I set out as a way to include him in
that day. So that’s what I’ll end with. Some things that I wrote 2 ½ years ago
seem truer now than when I first wrote them.
Thanks for
reading. For my friends, mom, Katie, (and grandma) who have been around the
last 10 years, thanks for all you did, even when you thought you weren’t doing
anything. For all of us who feel the sting of Grief: Hold On. Be Honest.
Remember Your People.
 |
One of my favorite pictures of my dad, an especially good one to place on a tea station :) |
Things my dad taught me:
·
Tea is not just for “tea time.” It is for all
times.
·
Amazing
Grace is the most appropriate song no matter the occasion.
·
It is always a good idea to be self-deprecating.
Especially if you are a foreigner.
·
Be fluent in a language other than your own.
·
Keep track of your gas mileage – though I still
don’t understand why.
·
Heaven is something we do not understand,
something we will not understand until we get there. But it is good. And it
should always be your goal.
·
If you want to make teenagers pay attention when
you’re talking, mention kissing.
·
Story telling is the best way to communicate any
truth.
·
Find your home and cherish it. The words “Welcome
Home” are not to be taken or given lightly.
·
Everyone has faults, everyone makes mistakes, and
everyone deserves to be forgiven.
·
The King
James Version is the best version of the Bible. (Though I’m pretty sure he
said this only because his name was James.)
·
It’s ok to cry.
·
You don’t always have to act your age.
·
Making time for your child is never the wrong
choice.
Every time we said goodbye, at airports or in parking
lots or even just on the phone, he asked, “What do you always remember?” Even
when I got older. Even when I was a teenager and the answer was a little
embarrassing. Every single time. “What do you always remember?” And every time
I’d answer, never doubting, even now, that it was true: “Daddy always loves
you.”
My dad taught me a lot of things, but one of the most
important lessons was that just because you’re not with a person doesn’t mean
you aren’t loved. Just because you can’t be together doesn’t mean you’re
forgotten. And just because you may not see someone for months, or years, at a
time does not mean that they aren’t looking forward to the day they see you
again. If anything, they’re looking forward to it more.
 |
An old favorite of me & my dad |
“To
have been loved deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give
us some protection forever.” -- J.K.
Rowling