Welcome to March (Madness). This year it is totally living up to the name March Madness. Between sub-zero temps and blizzards, now rain on the way who knows if we will see the grass before June. My oh my and that isn’t even the half of it.
It’s Friday and its been 2 weeks. 2 weeks from what you might ask? Well let’s just say 2 weeks since life has been somewhat in a tumultuous state. So for those of you that don’t know my birthday was February 18, Happy Birthday to me, right? Well this year was definitely one for the ages. The night before my birthday I went to bed a little early and was going to set my alarm for 4:54am which I do every year since it was the time I was actually born, crazy, yes I know! So anyways I get all settled into bed and just as I am about to fall asleep my phone starts vibrating. It is 9:45pm. Let me tell you I rarely get phone calls that late unless it is school cancelling. So I turn my phone over and it is my dad’s wife. At first I am kind of dazed so let it ring and then lay there as the anxiety starts to build. The phone clicks off and I wait for notification of the voicemail. There is no beep. So I get up and call her back and my younger half-brother answers and says that Dad has been taken to the hospital. I gasp and ask what happened. They didn’t really have any answers at that point and said they would keep me posted. I hang up and freeze. Literally time seemed to stand still. I walk back to the bed and lay down. I stare at the window and begin to cry. That all seems pretty normal right? Well let me give a slight back story. Up until the last 7 (ish) years I hadn’t talked to my dad. But, right before I got married I felt it was time to begin to mend wounds. Long story short I reached out to my dad via Father’s day card. After that saw each other face-to-face Thanksgiving of 2012, I was pregnant with my oldest son. My husband came with me and all went well. It felt good to see my dad. You see for so many years I called him “father” because “DAD” felt like one of those terms of endearment the you use for someone who did dad like things for you. This may sound a little harsh but my dad and I didn’t have that type of relationship growing up. Anyways, over the last 6 years we have reconnected via phone calls, texts, Christmas cards and a few visits here and there. Both of our boys have also got to meet Grandpa Major as they called him.
So back to the night of February 17, I lay there in total shock. All of a sudden all of the years of broken, hurt and anger flooded me. I am so glad that I chose forgiveness, that I put my feelings aside and reconnected before it was too late. I cried. It was one of those cries that let go of so many years of emotions. Could this really be it?
I maybe got 2-3 hours of sleep that night and when I got up there had not been any news. I communicated with Mary (his wife) throughout the day as she tells me that he was diagnosed with influenza A and also had a blood infection. He hadn’t been feeling well for a couple of days and she decided Sunday night to call 911. He was not conscious and they weren’t sure to what capacity he would be in if he regained consciousness due to having to resuscitate him twice. It was not looking very good. I spent most of my actual birthday fighting with my inner self of “he will pull through” and “you better go visit him just in case he doesn’t recover”. The latter won out and I drove to Sioux Falls the next morning. When I got to the hospital I had prepared myself as I wasn’t sure the condition he would be in. I went up to his bedside and told him I was there. At first it seemed surreal. Connected to all the machines and just not looking like himself. The nurse had said they would do an MRI to see the level of brain function and then his wife could make the decision to remove breathing tube or not. Before I left I told him that I loved him and to take care of himself. His heart rate spiked a bit and he began to move around. I asked the nurse if this could be him responding to my voice and he said “it’s hard to tell”. Anyways I know in my heart that my dad heard my words and knew I was there. Let me fast forward a bit, by Wednesday night they had removed the breathing tube and he was breathing on his own! When I got the call Thursday that he was breathing on his own I felt a weight lifted. Prayers were being answered. The plan was that day to move him to hospice. After talking to Mary it seemed that it was now up to my dad. That night I spoke with my half-sister in Texas and we thought he can do this, he can get stronger. That night at 12:20am before my phone even rang, I heard it ring. It was so strange. When I realized that it was actually ringing I picked it up. It was my dad’s number on caller ID. I answered and it was Mary telling me that he was gone. I told her I was so sorry, that I hoped he had passed peacefully and then we hung up. I set the phone down and told my husband that he was gone and then I just went numb. Again, all those years of shoulda, coulda, woulda’s ran through my mind. I couldn’t even cry. I had so many emotions flowing through my body. Anger, sadness, confusion but most of all peace. Yes, peace. Over the last week of him being hospitalized I just kept praying for peace for my dad and told other’s to pray for the same thing. I knew it was all up to GOD when it was my dad’s time, I just wanted him to go peacefully. The hardest part through these last two weeks has been that while my dad and I weren’t super close and didn’t see each other regularly, there just wouldn’t be a next time. His wife had mentioned that he wanted to be around when my last baby was born (I’m due in mid April), and now he won’t be earth-side to meet this little bundle. While my heart is at peace that I did make a connection with him before he passed, it still leaves this hole in my heart for the way things had been for so may years. I know that my dad loved me and through all the anger and years of no communication I still loved him.
Some days I get up and it’s like nothing has happened and other days it will just wash over me this sense of sadness for my dad, that he truly is gone. Having to explain to my boys that Grandpa Major had gone to heaven was both hard and easy at the same time. For as young as they are (almost 6 and 4). They seem to get what Heaven is. My oldest said, “That’s really sad that he died”. My youngest didn’t really say anything but that night at bed time when we said our prayers I asked if there was anyone he wanted to pray for and he said for my dad. He said, “I hope Grandpa Major made it to Heaven safely and that I hope that he listens to Jesus. Like if Jesus tells him to dance like a robot I hope he does, but not with his feet just his arms”. Oh my sweet boy, yes I hope he listens to Jesus, even if Jesus tells him to dance like a robot. The innocence of my boys overwhelms my heart and I know that my dad is in Heaven. My faith continues to comfort me that even if there were some words left unsaid between my dad and I that once he entered Heaven all the answers were there and he knows how I feel.
Of course there have been days that I have struggled with grief because I see friends who have lost their parents and I saw what their grief looked like. I am here to tell you THERE IS NO NORMAL. It is a battle that I deal with each day. It doesn’t matter how close you were to someone who passed away, you will still grieve. I work through the few happy memories of my dad from when I was a little girl and the memories we have made over the last few years of spending some time with the boys and voicemails and texts that I have saved. It doesn’t matter if we saw each other daily or did daddy/daughter things growing up, in the end he is still my dad and I will grieve. Sometimes a song will come on or I saw an episode of Chicago Med and it stopped me in my tracks that my dad is gone. Grief is weird like that, there is no one way and there is definitely no right way! Some days I think “I got this” and then little things like typing this blog will surface emotions I didn’t even know I was feeling.
One thing I want to share as I know I am probably not the only person who has or is grieving someone they lost whom they were not close with or maybe even had a volatile relationship with right up to the end. Grief is real, it is hard and it is raw. No matter who you have lost or what your relationship is there just is no normal. I find extreme comfort in that. I have felt guilty at times that I am crying because “I wasn’t that close with my dad” or “I didn’t see him very often, so why would I be sad”. Bottom line, HE WAS MY DAD. I will grieve and I will celebrate him the best that I can. This is just another chapter in my journey and I will turn in to my faith to help, along with some pretty awesome friends and family! I come back to one of my favorite bible verses John 16:33 ~ “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world”. Another favorite in times of like these is Jeremiah 29:11 ~ “For I know the plans I have for you”, declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” I know I have mentioned this before and I will say again. God is bigger than all of this. All the suffering, the hurt and the sadness, he is bigger. He is the rock that I need! While my relationship with my dad wasn’t perfect on this earth, I rest in knowing that some day we will meet again and all will be well!
To anyone who is grieving the loss of someone, may it be a parent, sibling, child, or friend, even if the relationship was less than loving. There is no normal. Your grief doesn’t look like mine nor should it. If you want to chat about grief I would love to chat with you.
So here I sit, it has been two weeks and while today is a good day, who knows what tomorrow will bring. I will embrace this thing called grief and continue to live each day with the people in my life and welcome new people as well. Each day is too short. Love hard, laugh lots and don’t leave words unsaid. I am so thankful for the time that I did have with my dad.
Until next time, while it may be hard at times, may you find joy in your journey.
Under the Clutter 