Grief

Forgive me.  I prefer fun, goofy, uplifting posts.  But, sometimes, I have to be real.  That’s what this is.  Please don’t think it’s a ploy to get sympathy, because that isn’t it at all.  Honestly, it is simply obedience.  I wrote this as a personal lament, not for public consumption.  But, God didn’t agree and He has impressed upon my heart that it needs to be put out there.  So….here goes….

My dad passed away in October after a relatively short battle with cancer.  When he went in the hospital the last time, we never imagined that he wouldn’t come out again.  But, of course, the Bible warns us that this is the nature of death.  We don’t know the time or the place, so be sure you’ve done it and said it while you still have the chance.  What has surprised me the most is the odd moments that my familiar lament comes to me.  And that is what this poem speaks to:

Like a quiet mantra
It rolls in me again
That phrase that’s become
LIke a dreaded friend
I miss my dad.
So many times a day
The smallest things brings
Those four little words to mind
Like a song I hate to sing
I miss my dad.
A whispering wind
A need unmet
Too many questions
They bring the familiar fret
I miss my dad.
Kaelyn’s sharp wit
Jacob’s sparkling eyes
So many reminders
I can’t disguise
I miss my dad.
Unwelcome, unexpected
This emptiness I feel
Nothing’s quite right
It still doesn’t feel real
I miss my dad.
An empty chair
A TV always off
Piled up papers
All speak of our loss
I miss my dad.
The mantra goes unspoken
So often no one wants to hear
It reminds them that they too
Will someday face this loneliness, this fear
I miss my dad.
Again the tears join in
Dripping with each unsaid word
A heartache unspoken
A pain so intense it’s absurd
I miss my dad.
The holidays are lively
He’d want it no other way
We paste on our smiles, thinking
The words we’re afraid to say
I miss my dad.
To hear his voice one more time
Or his laughter ringing in my ears
To listen as he shares his wisdom
I weep at the wasted years
I miss my dad.
Who knew it would feel like this?
Those who’ve walked the road before.
But words fail to explain exactly
And somehow we fancy we hurt more
I miss my dad.
So thankful I’ll see him again
He’s in heaven waiting for me
Until then the quiet words speak
For the heartache you can’t always see
I miss my dad.
 
 
lp  2/9/12

 

Are you still blessed to have your dad?  Be sure you’ve done it and said it.  If not, now’s a really good time.

Be blessed and tell someone you love them.  (Like your dad!)

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About meanderingswithgod

I Write. It’s what I do. It’s as vital a part of me as breathing. I write when I’m happy. I write when I’m sad. I write when I don’t understand. Or when I understand a little too clearly. I write when God’s speaking to me. And when I’m speaking to Him. And, more often than not, it comes out in rhythm and rhyme. In my words, you’ll find laughter and tears, pain and triumph, confusion and clarity. In my words, if you bother to search, you’ll find me. So, it is with both excitement and trepidation that I begin. This blog. This writing that’s been so long coming. My words. God’s words. Don’t worry, you’ll be able to tell the difference. Mine are clumsy, His are eloquent. I hope, as you read my verbal meanderings, that you’ll be blessed and find yourself searching for Him.
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