This blog was originally intended for us to chronicle Koko Bean's life and her adventures. Unfortunately, some adventures and events have gone undocumented. At first, I felt like I failed at yet another "perfect mom" task. However, Koko Bean, understands we are extremely busy working parents and the time we do get with her, we live it.
Speaking of living life, as much as I don't want Koko Bean to see me like this, it's been quite the struggle to actually live life myself. I have debated writing about this, because I didn't want her to look back and see that Mom was sad. You can't really hide from her though. She knows.
It's been eight months, and three days since my dad left his earthly life to spend Eternal life in Heaven. While I try to rejoice that he no longer suffers from the excruciating pain he endured, I think of how unfair it is we were left here to mourn. He was always the one to push me to be better, to succeed, and to defeat adversity. My dad would text me every day with jokes, mostly about politics and sports. He taught me to love Jesus, my family and sports. He didn't just tell me to work hard, he showed me how.
Now, that mentor is gone. I feel I have no connection to that man, except to look at pictures and hope he hears me when I talk out loud to him. Sometimes, he visits me in my dreams. He doesn't speak. He just sits there, and watches my children (Baby V is already born in many of my dreams with Dad.) I yearn to hear his voice, and especially his gut-busting laugh. I miss his sarcastic smirk, and his extremely dry sense of humor.
As we approach the holiday season, I sit here and think about what Dad loved about the holidays. He loved his family. He loved us so much, he worked from 3am to God knows when, to make our holidays special. On the eve of Thanksgiving and on Christmas Eve, I would meet him at his biggest stop, and help him stock the shelves with chips, so that he would be able to come home a little bit earlier. That man moved fast. Keeping up with him was a task in itself. After stocking the shelves, my dad didn't just leave though. He stopped and talked with the employees of that store, and other passersby whom he knew. He was always interested in those people's lives, their children, etc.
I've always been more like my dad, in personality and in work ethic. No matter how much Dad hurt, he still loved to work. These days, I'm finding it harder and harder to enjoy anything about life and work. I am angered easily. I don't care for small talk. In fact, it makes me more anxious. Forget about talking on the phone, and face to face conversation is even worse.
Everyone says, grieving takes time, and that you never fully get over the pain. Well, this sucks. When I feel like this, I also feel guilty. There are many other people suffering far more than I. I feel selfish and it's unfair for my family to have an unhappy me. I have many blessings in my life. I have a beautiful daughter who is extremely smart, I have a husband who puts up with my crazy self, I have a mother who gives more of herself than anyone I know, and a brother who is extremely successful, despite everything he's been through. Most of all, I have a loving God who knows my pain and a Savior who died to save me from my sins.
I hope Koko Bean and Baby V never have to go through this themselves, but it is inevitable. When they do, I hope they see it's normal to grieve. I hope they understand it's not the end, but a beginning to a new chapter in the book of life. I hope they know they have a loving God who will comfort them in those times of sadness.
