When Sam & Mercy ran ahead to Jesus, I laid my soul bare for the world to see. I ranted and wept, I railed at the injustice of it all, I shared my faith and promised to always seek God in the journey. For a long time I kept that promise.
But little by little, that resolve to keep writing, keep bringing the glory to Him in the mess fell away. Like a deciduous tree in a southern forest, my leaves dropped around me and my heart felt brittle and dry, easily pushed by the winds of the circumstances of life in a fallen world. Exhaustion from the broken road, anger at the shambles our life was left in, discouragement a constant and ever-present cloud, the words dried up and blew away. Pig-Pen from Charlie Brown sometimes feels like my spirit animal.
Just when I thought things couldn't fall apart any further than they already had-
My. Dad. Died.
Just typing those words feels wrong. Disgusting. Awful. Unreal.
18 days ago, at my mom's side, I held his hand and stroked his hair, praying and sobbing, sitting, standing, pacing, rocking. But ultimately, staring in disbelief that the man who had led our family for 51 years, an indomitable man with the heart of a lion- was slowly and quietly leaving this world. And no amount of beseeching, begging, pleading, or bargaining with God was going to change that. For reasons I'll never know or understand, it was time.
So I sang him home. With the words of his favorite song jumbled and mixed with mine, I sang to my father-
for the very last time.
The last 2 1/2 weeks have brought IT, the ugliness of grief, all to the surface again-
the waking in disbelief, having to remind myself that this is reality now, and the bitter knowledge that I'll never again be enveloped in one of my father's famous "RRR" hugs this side of Heaven.
My phone will never ring with his voice on the line again- when I'd answer, he'd always say, "Hey Tiff, Dad." It always cracked me up that he'd announce himself, like I wouldn't know it was him.
And above it all, the heartbreaking reality of my precious mama being without her person of 52 years. Sometimes I can't figure out what shatters my heart more-that he's gone or that she has to live without him.
There are so many more words bubbling to the surface, words that may bring sadness and sorrow-or they may bring laughter and tears. I just don't know yet. But I know this-
I think I have to lay it all bare once more-
And I don't know if I can endure that again, but I'm not certain I'll survive this if I don't.
I will tell of the kindnesses of the Lord,
the deeds for which he is to be praised,
according to all the Lord has done for us-
Isaiah 63:7a
