It was
today. It was today – November 26th. I’ve relived every moment of that day so many
times during the past year. I’ve tried
to really put myself there – for whatever reason, while it was awful – I also
find some comfort in going back to when the shock and pain was so raw; it makes
today’s pain still seem valid and reasonable.
I have
prepared for today (as much as one can) – for the one year anniversary of dad’s
death – to be really hard. People have
warned me. What I was not at all prepared
for is that maybe it’s not the number – 26, November 26th – maybe it’s
more the day, as in ‘the Tuesday before Thanksgiving.’ Yesterday hit me like a ton of bricks. It was Tuesday last year. I’m such a creature of habit; I always go to
my gym for spin class on Tuesdays.
Despite having a cold right now (that will not end and that I’ve had for
2 weeks already!), I knew that going to spin would be cathartic and good – it always
is.
I
walked into the spin room and stopped abruptly.
Setting up in the front of the room was not my dear wonderful usual
instructor (and friend) Heather – it was Laurie. (Laurie teaches evening classes but on the
very rare occasion subs for morning ones).
In that moment, I’m immediately transported to the last class I had with
Laurie which was, of course, November 26th. (Apparently she has a
regular gig teaching the Tuesday before Thanksgiving). The last time I took her
class, I had no idea the news that Mike would be delivering to me over the
phone when I was done with that class.
But walking into that room and seeing her and realizing all that…well, I
was done. A friend in class saw me just
standing there and asked if I was OK. I
shook my head, explained the situation and said, “I can’t be here. I just can’t do this.” I grabbed my stuff and
went to the locker room before I could cause too much of a scene.
The
rest of the day was just sorta downhill from there. I gave into it, I embraced the pain. I was a hot mess.
So, I’m
hoping that maybe yesterday was the worst of it. But who knows…
I heard,
yesterday morning, for the first time this season, the line that will never be
the same to me ever again: “Fall on your knees and hear the angel voices…” And this morning, the quote at the beginning
of my daily meditation (For Working Through Grief), “So he passed over, and all
the trumpets sounded for him on the other side,” – John Bunyan. There seems to be a theme: angelic choirs and
orchestras just totally rocked out when dad arrived. I’m sure they’re still jamming now. I’m sure it’s amazing. But I sure just wish he was still here.
2 comments:
My brother died on a Tuesday, too. It's hard to not go there some Tuesdays, even 33 months later. Keep trying. Things will be different. Not better or worse, just different. <3
Jenny, I feel for you today. My sisters and I left dad at their house to go start teaching our new school year. I couldn't tell him goodbye, just see ya later. I left a letter for him and told my brother to read it when I was gone because I am so much better writing how I feel. Plus when we went away for work events, I would write him letters each day for him to open so he wouldn't miss us. We started the school year, trying to keep busy but feeling guilty I wasn't with him. We decided to take a few days and go see him. The morning we were going to leave was the day he passed away. I should have been there. Even now, 6 years later, I feel terrible for not being there, for not telling him how I felt before I left. So many regrets. Now, I feel at peace for him. I know he is with God and probably welcomed your dad up in Heaven. But some days are still hard. A song comes on, something happens and I want to call him. But I have to say, going through this really puts in perspective what life is really all about and my faith is stronger because of it. I can now see how God was working within those tough months. Remember I am just a phone call away! Love ya!
Post a Comment