Thursday, December 10, 2015

Late night grief

The worst part of grief....

Is that it sneaks up on you. As I lay in bed, I start praying. Life's been full of changes lately, and for the first time in forever, I've begun praying. I need guidance. I lost my belief in God after my dad died. I've never fully regained it. But tonight, I needed him. As I pray for guidance about all the changes, the grief hits me. Like a ton of bricks....bam. I do the math and put together that it's been 16 years since my last Christmas with my dad. I've literally lived through more Christmases without him then with him. And here come the tears. The part that gets me is I don't remember many because I was a child. I'm heartbroken. I miss him. I'd give anything to have him here or at least remember more of them. The holidays can be overbearing no matter how long they've been gone. Time doesn't heal everything. Just remember those who grieve never stop...and grief never warns you when it will hit. Tonight grief won. Tomorrow begins a new day.

Monday, December 7, 2015

Waiting for the ball to drop...

One thing I've recently noticed that I never did before is that I'm a worrier. I don't feel like I was always like this, especially before my dad died. I think when you watch someone die, and a lot of people in a row, you're always waiting for the next "bomb" in life. For almost ten years, I was always learning that someone else I knew had died. From the time I was 12 until 22, I went to more funerals than some people do in a lifetime. It seemed just when you got over losing one person, life would knock you back to square one again. It was a continuous game of "Sorry."

Over time, I think this has majorly shaped how I look at the future and life, just waiting for it to kick me back down. I'm not always like this, but a lot of the time I am. I just never noticed it before. It's one thing I am really going to try to start doing better at. Sometimes we really don't choose to be so negative, it's just that we learned it in childhood and it formed part of who we are in adulthood.