Lindley and Mills have a new favorite activity. They want to
look at all of our family photo books that have pictures of Daddoc in them.
I’ve displayed them on my living room mantle and multiple times a day, they
will point up to them and swipe their hand across their chest, signing “please,
please, please.” I give in because I too want to look at those pictures,
remember Dad, and wish that we would be making more photo books with many
pictures of him in it. Each turn on the page is heart wrenching yet soothing at
the same time.
After looking at those photos, reading these words in
Healing After Loss by Martha Whitmore Hickman really struck me…
“We dwell so much on the past when we are grieving- the
immediate past- the occasion of death itself, and then the happier days when
our loved one was with us in all his strength. And then we dwell on the future-
the deprivation it will be to face those years without our loved one. But the
present moment is all any of us have – even this present moment when you are
reading these words.”
I don’t want the present moment to be all that have. The
present is hard. The house is a mess, the kids are loud, there are dishes to be
done, exercise that should happen, plans that should be executed, dreams that
should be dreamed. But, I’m stuck. I’m without energy, motivation, or desires
to do much of any of that.
A friend stopped by yesterday who is following through on
some of her dreams and plans. They are going to be amazing! She is going to be
a blessing to so many through what she will accomplish. But, as I left our
conversation, I felt completely defeated. All afternoon, I couldn’t open and
heat up the two cans of black beans I needed to cook for dinner. I starred at my son’s toy that needed new
batteries and we just sat on the floor hoping it would fix itself. I felt
paralyzed, immobilized to complete a task and here she was living her dreams.
Isn’t that what Dad would want me to do? Great, now I feel like I’m failing not
only myself but my dad as well. I’m stuck remembering the past and not wanting
to make a future. I know I need to move forward but I can’t.
And, then like a hug from my dad, the grace of God swept
over me. He nudged my heart and said, “Child, just sit still. You need not go
anywhere, do anything, be anything other than what you are right now.” Like
Hickman said, the present moment is all we have. And, I have to be ok with
that. So, I’m going to sit on the floor with my son, kiss my sweet baby 100
times before he goes to bed and forget about the laundry for one more day, and
be ok that it took me three hours to make the easiest dinner imaginable. This
is where I am. One day I won’t be at this place. I will move with efficiently,
accomplish task, and restore order. But, not today.
For now, I’m learning to be present with my feelings, my
children and my husband. It is hard. But, in a way it is freeing. God is
meeting me right where I am without any pressures to grieve a certain way or
the proper way or any other false expectations I am putting on myself. Each day
is a new day to thank God and attempt to be “present.”
I saw this quote yesterday and want to remember what a gift
today is, even if nothing is accomplished but my children and husband know that
they were loved, because, that is exactly what I remember about my Dad. I
remember that I was always loved.
“You will never have this day
with your child again.
Tomorrow they’ll be a little
older than they we’re today.
This day is a gift.
Breathe and notice.
Smell and touch them;
study their faces
and little feet and pay attention.
RELISH THE CHARMS
of THE PRESENT.
Enjoy today, mama.
It will be over
before you know it.”
~Jen
Hatmaker
Beautiful Taylor
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