Dear friends,
The last few months as you know has been very hard
on me, with everything that has happened. Recently, I joined a grief support group
through my church and it was recommended I write a letter explaining my journey
with grief. Since writing is something I love, I thought I’d give it a try.
The death of my father came to me as a shock, as I write
this I replay sprinting down the hallway of McClaren Hospital at 12:21 am, only
to be told by the doctor that my dad was dead.
It was like a scene from a movie; when there is family sitting in a room
crying and confused, awaiting the doctor for the results. Myself only being 16,
things started instantly hitting me not giving my eyes a break from the mad
flood of tears that were coming out.
Things like who’s going to be at my graduation, whose going to walk me
down the aisle when I get married and even who are my kids going to call
grandpa? I was angry, and hurt by the
actions God had taken in my life. My dad
was the only parent I had left- what was I going to do without him? I felt like
I had no-one. I honestly miss my dad. I
miss everything that we did together, and I even miss the stuff that used to
drive me CRAZY. Every morning before
school, he would call me, and when I got home I would call him. Every
Wednesday, I rode the bus to his house to help him do stuff around the house,
since he was in a wheelchair. I would
sometimes cook dinner for him too; he taught me everything I know about cooking
and baking. On weekends, when I would spend the night over there, he would
always teach me some of his recipes. I miss his cooking. My dad was really the
only parent I had growing up. Sure, I had
a mom- but she was in my life only as she pleased. While she was in and out of
mental institutions for either suicide attempts, anger management or schizophrenia-
my dad stood by my side making me feels better when I missed her. He continued
doing that until the day he died. The evening before my dad died- he called me
from the hospital and when we ended the call he said three words that he
sparingly said; “I love you.” That was
the last thing he ever said to me. When I think of that- I smile. He called ME and told me he loved me. I think
he knew that something was wrong. I am SO grateful and thank God that I was
home, and able to answer the phone call. Father’s day was rough…. Really rough.
I found myself wanting to stay in bed under the covers where no one could see
the tears covering my pillow. I kept getting angry at the fact that he wasn’t
there with me. As the day went on it got
better. I went with my family to my
cousins and we had fun tubing, fishing and swimming on the lake. I miss my daddy a lot. I just can’t begin to explain how much I miss
him. I find myself often searching for scents of his colognes, or his deep
laugh that always made me laugh, or even something as simple as an umbrella at
the dock he always fished at. I know
that he is pain free, and able to walk again. He’s up in heaven with both of
his parents, one of his sisters, and even one of his grand-daughters. He may be
gone- but I am blessed to keep him in my heart forever. As many of you have seen, I wear his ring
around my neck. My parents recently got
divorced, so it isn’t his wedding ring but instead a ring that meant a lot to
him considering my sister and I gave it to him.
I’m blessed to have known such an amazing father. I feel better knowing that most likely at
this moment he is probably fishing with his dad up in heaven.
My grandma, wow do I miss her. I believe that I was
more prepared for her passing since she was on hospice for about a year. My
grandma truly was my second mother. She taught me things that a normal mother
would teach her daughter. She taught me about God, and the Bible and she gave
me words of encouragement when my life seemed flooded with negativity. My
grandma was down and to the point. When
she didn’t like something- you would definitely know about it. She loved to argue;
especially with my uncle about politics and Obama- jeesh did she despise him.
When she would get agitated over the smallest things she always had this cute
expression on my face that made me laugh. She was so sweet- and even though she
would always threaten to hit us grandkids with a fly swatter, she loved us all.
My days consisted of taking care of her. Whether it was filling her coffee,
giving her a bath, emptying her commode, getting her dressed or even cutting
her finger nails- I was always by her side. I miss having to be needed by her.
I miss her eyes- they were baby blue. When I looked in them I found comfort, I found
peace, I found the love of a mother was deprived of as a child, and most of
all- I found strength. When I was younger, we would sit on the sliding glider and
she would sing to me my little sunshine…. I miss that. Out of everything she
has done for me, I know she loved me. I
know she appreciated every time I helped her. I know she knows I loved her, and
enjoyed seeing her smile when I would help her. I know she’s happy in
heaven. Taking care of my dad since he’s
probably too much of a handful for the angels. I know one thing for sure- heaven
will be super clean with my grandma around!
If there is anything I’ve learned over the past few
weeks- it’s that as time goes by, the pain never goes away; but you have to
find ways to deal with the pain. Finding ways to let yourself be sad, to let
yourself cry because you miss them. I’ve learned that grieving is definitely okay.
It doesn’t make me weak. It makes me
human. When I cry the tears are proof
for how much I loved my dad and grandma. It’s not ever easy to lose someone
close- I’m going to cry, and be sad. I’m
going to frequently want to be by myself
so I can recollect myself when I feel like I’m falling apart. I’m going to need
time. God only knows how long I will
grieve. Things are looking up. I’m
teaching myself how to look around in my new room and smile at all the memories
I have in there instead of cry. I’m
learning that my dad and grandma may not there physically but they are proud of
who I am becoming. I know now that when I
walk the stage for graduation- they will be there; they will be sitting front
seat smiling, clapping and having tears in their eyes just like every other
parent in the room. I know that they
love me. Every person that receives this letter has helped me in some way with
this hard time. Whether it was by sending me an email, card, giving me a hug or
even just a smile when I was frowning letting me know you cared- thank you,
because it made me realize I’m not alone in this crazy world. Because I have all of you.
Everyone keeps telling me that if I need anything
don’t hesitate to ask. I’ve come to realization
that I do need something. I need prayers. Please pray that every day I gain
more strength and more understanding of my grief. Please pray that my family is
doing the same.
Through every mess God has given me, he has always
provided a message. I started a
journey-a journey of grief. It’s not a trip I planned; but it’s a trip I must
take. I am blessed to know that I’m not
on this journey alone.
-Elizabeth
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