This is the kind of thing that is getting a lot harder before there is any glimpse of getting better. My classes are a constant reminder of dad. Every other item I ring up at work I can somehow work back to dad. The leaves turning...my music, Dayze, being at moms house...everything is a constant reminder he isn't here.
When my parents decided to go on finish from Wycliffe, we went back home in the summer to sell the house and pack up and we flew back in October. As we flew back into America, the leaves were turning and my dad would constantly say, "Have I ever told you?" Which was meant, "Have I ever told you that fall is my favorite time of year?" He continued this until the end. Every fall it was... "Have I ever told you?" And then my response, "No dad, you haven't".
Last summer, like every summer of the past 6 years, my bestie Cari and I went to see Dave Matthews Band, Last year it was in Chicago at Wrigley Field. I must have sent my dad a dozen pictures of Chicago and the concert. DMB decided to make the concert we were at a live cd. Cari had pre-ordered us the cd and I was ssoooo excited! I told my dad and couldn't wait to share it with him. We never got a chance to listen to it together. Dad knew my passion for DMB. He even downloaded the DMB app on his iPod Touch for me. We came over for dinner one night and he handed me the iPod with the DMB app pulled up and said, "Got you something". He loved the saxophonist of DMB and I loved sharing the music with him.
About 4 1/2 years ago I had told my parents that Brandon and I were considering getting a dog. My mom was not okay with the idea and let me know about it. Well, that didn't stop with falling in love with Dayze the first time I set eyes on her and then twisting Brandon's arm into letting her stay at his place. The day after we got her, I took her over to my parents house. My mom wasn't home but my dad was. I called him and told him to come outside. He came out and took one look at Dayze and started laughing. The grass was taller than her and the tiniest collar I could find was still too big for her. She didn't even weigh a pound. But dad loved her. Dayze is not a fan of men. In fact she hates any strange man with a passion. But Dayze and her Papaw Bill, they were amazing together. Even when he was sick, she would stay on his lap and wouldn't want to be anywhere else.
I completely and fully understand why they call it a broken heart.
Friday, October 7, 2011
Monday, August 22, 2011
Psalms 71:17
This past Friday would've been my parents 38th wedding anniversary. I knew it was coming but I didn't know it would have this huge affect on me. I am so hurt that my mom had to spend it without my dad. So mad that he wasn't here.
I got her flowers. We both cried.
That same day (Friday) my mom, Brandon and I went to northern Kentucky for a wedding-one of my friends who I grew up with overseas was getting married. I was grateful we got to go. Brandon and I had already had plans to go but mom said she was going to go to a choir retreat that weekend. When we got closer to the day she decided she wanted to spend time with Benji, Toni (my brother and sister-in-law) and Mason (my youngest nephew) in Elkhart, IN and with Brandon and I. So she went up to Elkhart Thursday and Friday we went to the wedding.
There weren't that many missionary friends at the wedding but it was great that she got to see Annie and Kim (the brides mother and father) who she has known since 1991.
It was the first wedding we all had been to since dad had died and since Brandon and I got married. Megan (the bride) had grown up in Papua New Guinea since she was 3 and graduated from the high school there. Her now husband, Ilir, had grown up in Albania and come the states a couple years ago. His family was unable to come over to the states for the wedding but he had lots of support there. It was emotionally just being a wedding but it was also emotional because there was this jealously that Megan's dad was there to walk her down the isle and to give her away but also huge gratefulness that he was there for her.
Three guys that had also been MK's from Papua New Guinea were also there, Daniel, Clint, and Alex. I had grown up with Daniel and met Clint and Alex when I went back in 2005. It was SO great to see them and to catch up.
It was a beautiful wedding for a beautiful couple and I'm so glad we got to be there for it.
In any situation I can always picture would dad would be doing-his mannerisms-how he would move his head, how he would move his arms, how polite he would be, how and when he would laugh. He would've loved to see Annie and Kim again.
It's been 4 months since yesterday. And I remain feeling so out of place. I remain feeling in such disbelief that it hurts my head. My heart hurts more now that ever because every day I realized just a little bit more that I'm never going to see my dad on this earth. I wept so intensely last night because all I want to go at the end of today is to pick up the phone and tell my dad how my first day of school went. I know we would have lots to talk about this semester with having 2 history classes, Multicultural Studies, and Cultural Anthropology. He'd want to see my history books so he could look through them and I'd probably talk his ear off about things I'd learn in the other two classes.
It's such a struggle to wrap my head around why it was him. I know people say not to dwell on the why but it's a struggle not too. When there are so many people who actually deserve it, who lie and steal and drink themselves away every night and nothing happens to them. But then I have to switch gears in my thinking and remember that I serve a jealous God. Why wouldn't he want my dad up there in Heaven with him?
When we've been able to make it to the church we are currently attending, we've been studying Elijah and Elisha. Yesterday Pastor Denny talked about what legacy would you leave. If I could be selfless, honest and true, devoted to helping anyone and everyone, devoted to my family and devoted to God so intensely as my dad was, if i could live half the legacy my dad did, I'd be grateful. The verse that was given as a life verse today was Psalms 71:17
O God, from my youth you have taught me, and I still proclaim your wondrous deeds. So even to old age and gray hairs, O God do for not forsake me, until I proclaim your might to another generation, your power to all those that come.
My daddie did just that.
I got her flowers. We both cried.
That same day (Friday) my mom, Brandon and I went to northern Kentucky for a wedding-one of my friends who I grew up with overseas was getting married. I was grateful we got to go. Brandon and I had already had plans to go but mom said she was going to go to a choir retreat that weekend. When we got closer to the day she decided she wanted to spend time with Benji, Toni (my brother and sister-in-law) and Mason (my youngest nephew) in Elkhart, IN and with Brandon and I. So she went up to Elkhart Thursday and Friday we went to the wedding.
There weren't that many missionary friends at the wedding but it was great that she got to see Annie and Kim (the brides mother and father) who she has known since 1991.
It was the first wedding we all had been to since dad had died and since Brandon and I got married. Megan (the bride) had grown up in Papua New Guinea since she was 3 and graduated from the high school there. Her now husband, Ilir, had grown up in Albania and come the states a couple years ago. His family was unable to come over to the states for the wedding but he had lots of support there. It was emotionally just being a wedding but it was also emotional because there was this jealously that Megan's dad was there to walk her down the isle and to give her away but also huge gratefulness that he was there for her.
Three guys that had also been MK's from Papua New Guinea were also there, Daniel, Clint, and Alex. I had grown up with Daniel and met Clint and Alex when I went back in 2005. It was SO great to see them and to catch up.
It was a beautiful wedding for a beautiful couple and I'm so glad we got to be there for it.
In any situation I can always picture would dad would be doing-his mannerisms-how he would move his head, how he would move his arms, how polite he would be, how and when he would laugh. He would've loved to see Annie and Kim again.
It's been 4 months since yesterday. And I remain feeling so out of place. I remain feeling in such disbelief that it hurts my head. My heart hurts more now that ever because every day I realized just a little bit more that I'm never going to see my dad on this earth. I wept so intensely last night because all I want to go at the end of today is to pick up the phone and tell my dad how my first day of school went. I know we would have lots to talk about this semester with having 2 history classes, Multicultural Studies, and Cultural Anthropology. He'd want to see my history books so he could look through them and I'd probably talk his ear off about things I'd learn in the other two classes.
It's such a struggle to wrap my head around why it was him. I know people say not to dwell on the why but it's a struggle not too. When there are so many people who actually deserve it, who lie and steal and drink themselves away every night and nothing happens to them. But then I have to switch gears in my thinking and remember that I serve a jealous God. Why wouldn't he want my dad up there in Heaven with him?
When we've been able to make it to the church we are currently attending, we've been studying Elijah and Elisha. Yesterday Pastor Denny talked about what legacy would you leave. If I could be selfless, honest and true, devoted to helping anyone and everyone, devoted to my family and devoted to God so intensely as my dad was, if i could live half the legacy my dad did, I'd be grateful. The verse that was given as a life verse today was Psalms 71:17
O God, from my youth you have taught me, and I still proclaim your wondrous deeds. So even to old age and gray hairs, O God do for not forsake me, until I proclaim your might to another generation, your power to all those that come.
My daddie did just that.
Friday, July 29, 2011
Shards that Shatter
I found out today that a MK (missionary kid) friend of mine lost his mother. We were in the same class and he is one of the ones that was there when we left as a family and was there when I returned in 2005.
It's so amazing how your heart can already be in pieces because of your own pain and then it will find the biggest of those already tiny shards and shatter even more. It breaks my heart to know I already have friends out there who have lost a father or mother at this young age but then when it happens again, it's equally if not more heart breaking because I know exactly what they are going though. This is not the kind of club you want to belong to.
My heart truly goes out to the Walkers. I know all to well that you are feeling.
It's so amazing how your heart can already be in pieces because of your own pain and then it will find the biggest of those already tiny shards and shatter even more. It breaks my heart to know I already have friends out there who have lost a father or mother at this young age but then when it happens again, it's equally if not more heart breaking because I know exactly what they are going though. This is not the kind of club you want to belong to.
My heart truly goes out to the Walkers. I know all to well that you are feeling.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Firsts.
I had already thought about what the first Thanksgiving, first Christmas, first birthdays would be like without dad. Granted it will be way worse than I can imagine when the time comes. But there are ssooooooooo many more firsts that didn't cross my mind. Like the first trip to West Harrison, IN (where my moms youngest brother lives) and Brookville, IN (where my moms middle brother lives). The last 4 years of traveling down there to see family we always took my car but my dad drove. I always sat behind my dad when my mom and brother or Brandon were along. Since my dad had longer legs and I had shorter, it was just a given that I would always sit behind him. This past weekend my cousin had his graduation in West Harrison and my mom went down for it. The first trip without dad. I so desperately wanted to be staring at the little opening of the back of his Cubs hat and see his silvery hair in my seat behind his. I so desperately wanted him to be there when there was no one to talk to so I could just go to where he was and lock arms and just stand and listen to his conversation. Or find him and take his iPod Touch out of his belt clip or shirt pocket and try to beat his score on Centipede. I so desperately wanted...want him to be.
I was looking though my checkbook ledger and I came across last year when I started school last year and dad had loaned me money for my school books. This school year will be the first I can't call my dad to tell him about my first day. And it makes me beyond furious!!! It makes me so angry and mad and everything in between.
I don't cry anymore. I weep. Every time tears come, it's no longer just tears, it weeping to the fullest extent. It's being so completely and utterly crushed .
My hope is to not only want to wake up someday but to realize I'm not the only one feeling this and there are things happening in this world that deserve my attention.
I was looking though my checkbook ledger and I came across last year when I started school last year and dad had loaned me money for my school books. This school year will be the first I can't call my dad to tell him about my first day. And it makes me beyond furious!!! It makes me so angry and mad and everything in between.
I don't cry anymore. I weep. Every time tears come, it's no longer just tears, it weeping to the fullest extent. It's being so completely and utterly crushed .
My hope is to not only want to wake up someday but to realize I'm not the only one feeling this and there are things happening in this world that deserve my attention.
 |
| After dad just did the bike part of a triathlon--15 mile bike ride |
Thursday, July 21, 2011
3 months.
Today marks 3 months since my dad has been gone.
It getting harder and harder to be without him. I struggle by the hour. Some days are better than others but some are way worse than others. My mind won't stop reeling. As I laid down for bed last night all I could think about was the night the hospice home called me to tell me he probably won't make it until I got there. 3 months ago at this very time Brandon, my mom, and I were all getting ready to leave the hospice home. Without my dad.
I not only struggle to be without my dad but to also with other peoples problems. That sounds so insensitive. And it is. It's hard to know that people are just carrying on with their lives and have forgotten what pain and huge sorrow I'm dealing with. That sounds conceited. And it is. I don't want people to go out of their way and think about me but then again I want the whole world to stop.
My mom is going to try to keep the house. The 3rd most difficult thing we've been dealing with is all the financial stuff. She has got almost all the medical bills from my dad taken care of which has been wonderful. But about a year ago I think, wires were crossed between my dad and the life insurance he had been paying on for 15+ years. Lets just saw my mom didn't send up with much at all.
I hate having to see my mom struggle and have to decide whether or not she can keep the house and what expenses she has to get rid of. Everyone keeps telling her not make any decisions in the first year but she has been forced too. No one should have to do that.
Luckily she thinks she will be able to keep the house. She has planned to rent out the two extra rooms to college students this year to help her reach the amount needed every month in order to keep the house. She is excited about it. We did this for a couple years when we lived in the house on Guilford St. It just shouldn't have come to that. It just adds to the already down and hurt me.
This is such a excruciating hurt and pain. Not only does today mark 3 months since he has been gone but 2 months that I've been married. I know Brandon understands to the fullest extent that he can how much I hurt and how much I'm struggling. He never had parents like mine. My in-laws are complete opposite of my parents. Even though I didn't marry into awesome in-laws like Brandon did, I'm so grateful that he got to see what a stable, true, honest, wonderful, loving, Christian marriage can look like. Brandon was close with my dad. I know he misses my dad immensely. When my dad became unable to leave the house, Brandon would always go down to Huntington even on days I couldn't and talk with my dad and play the Wii, always making sure they were games my dad could play sitting down. Brandon and my dad were a lot alike--both love history and love to read and learn all the can about history. Both so selfless in their actions. Brandon hasn't played the Wii since my dad has died and I know it's because of my dad.
I remember the very night I told my parents I was dating a older man. My brother had been dating a girl a year younger than I and it was causing my parents lots of white hairs. So when I was taken back by a guy that was a year older than my brother I was SSOOOO nervous to tell them and even left them in the dark about it for awhile just to make sure that I wouldn't be wasting their time on getting to know this guy if it wasn't going to work out. When I realized that this guy was going to be around for awhile at least, I knew I had to break the news to my parents. It was a Friday night and I remember my dad sitting on the couch talking about my brother and this younger girl. I can see it now-- "So, what would you say if I was dating a older guy?" I said. "Well, how much older?" dad replied. I cringed and got ready for the reaction. "7 years" I said. There was a pause and you could see my dads eyes pondering this. "Well, how old will you be in a couple months?" he asked. "19" I replied. Another pause. "Well, you are much more mature than your brother ever was at your age and I trust you are making wise decisions." It took everything inside of me to keep from jumping for joy and to keep my jaw up from the floor. Knowing my parents didn't approve of my brothers relationship I was terrified of what they would think of mine. That same night, all 3 of us went up to Bob Evans were Brandon was serving at the time. Brandon didn't know I broke the news to my parents. We asked to be seated in Brandon's section and Brandon got a pleasant surprise. My parents were hesitant at first. Naturally. I don't blame them. But Brandon sure won them over. I swear Brandon always gets the first hugs from my mom when we see her. Even Quinton always asks where Brandon is if he isn't there or will gravitate towards Brandon if he is. I'm so lucky how much my dad loved Brandon and how much Brandon loved him in return.
It getting harder and harder to be without him. I struggle by the hour. Some days are better than others but some are way worse than others. My mind won't stop reeling. As I laid down for bed last night all I could think about was the night the hospice home called me to tell me he probably won't make it until I got there. 3 months ago at this very time Brandon, my mom, and I were all getting ready to leave the hospice home. Without my dad.
I not only struggle to be without my dad but to also with other peoples problems. That sounds so insensitive. And it is. It's hard to know that people are just carrying on with their lives and have forgotten what pain and huge sorrow I'm dealing with. That sounds conceited. And it is. I don't want people to go out of their way and think about me but then again I want the whole world to stop.
My mom is going to try to keep the house. The 3rd most difficult thing we've been dealing with is all the financial stuff. She has got almost all the medical bills from my dad taken care of which has been wonderful. But about a year ago I think, wires were crossed between my dad and the life insurance he had been paying on for 15+ years. Lets just saw my mom didn't send up with much at all.
I hate having to see my mom struggle and have to decide whether or not she can keep the house and what expenses she has to get rid of. Everyone keeps telling her not make any decisions in the first year but she has been forced too. No one should have to do that.
Luckily she thinks she will be able to keep the house. She has planned to rent out the two extra rooms to college students this year to help her reach the amount needed every month in order to keep the house. She is excited about it. We did this for a couple years when we lived in the house on Guilford St. It just shouldn't have come to that. It just adds to the already down and hurt me.
This is such a excruciating hurt and pain. Not only does today mark 3 months since he has been gone but 2 months that I've been married. I know Brandon understands to the fullest extent that he can how much I hurt and how much I'm struggling. He never had parents like mine. My in-laws are complete opposite of my parents. Even though I didn't marry into awesome in-laws like Brandon did, I'm so grateful that he got to see what a stable, true, honest, wonderful, loving, Christian marriage can look like. Brandon was close with my dad. I know he misses my dad immensely. When my dad became unable to leave the house, Brandon would always go down to Huntington even on days I couldn't and talk with my dad and play the Wii, always making sure they were games my dad could play sitting down. Brandon and my dad were a lot alike--both love history and love to read and learn all the can about history. Both so selfless in their actions. Brandon hasn't played the Wii since my dad has died and I know it's because of my dad.
I remember the very night I told my parents I was dating a older man. My brother had been dating a girl a year younger than I and it was causing my parents lots of white hairs. So when I was taken back by a guy that was a year older than my brother I was SSOOOO nervous to tell them and even left them in the dark about it for awhile just to make sure that I wouldn't be wasting their time on getting to know this guy if it wasn't going to work out. When I realized that this guy was going to be around for awhile at least, I knew I had to break the news to my parents. It was a Friday night and I remember my dad sitting on the couch talking about my brother and this younger girl. I can see it now-- "So, what would you say if I was dating a older guy?" I said. "Well, how much older?" dad replied. I cringed and got ready for the reaction. "7 years" I said. There was a pause and you could see my dads eyes pondering this. "Well, how old will you be in a couple months?" he asked. "19" I replied. Another pause. "Well, you are much more mature than your brother ever was at your age and I trust you are making wise decisions." It took everything inside of me to keep from jumping for joy and to keep my jaw up from the floor. Knowing my parents didn't approve of my brothers relationship I was terrified of what they would think of mine. That same night, all 3 of us went up to Bob Evans were Brandon was serving at the time. Brandon didn't know I broke the news to my parents. We asked to be seated in Brandon's section and Brandon got a pleasant surprise. My parents were hesitant at first. Naturally. I don't blame them. But Brandon sure won them over. I swear Brandon always gets the first hugs from my mom when we see her. Even Quinton always asks where Brandon is if he isn't there or will gravitate towards Brandon if he is. I'm so lucky how much my dad loved Brandon and how much Brandon loved him in return.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Chocolate Cake
Bought myself a piece of chocolate cake today. The same chocolate cake I bought for my daddie for Fathers Day last year and the year before that.
I feel like I will never to 100% myself again. I feel so hurt to my core. I feel so angry and so mad. Words aren't can't even begin to explain. I miss him so deeply and so strongly. I've never imagined in a million years I would be going through this. It's always someone else. These kind of things never happen to "me". I suppose it can be compared to someone who has gone through a hurricane or some huge storm and lost everything. Except at this point, I'd rather lose all my belongings just to have my daddie back.
He was in my dream two nights ago. In my dream I knew he had died. My mom and I were walking by a forest and we look over and see a man walking towards us from the forest wearing a Cubs t-shirt. We realize it's my dad and we're so confused. I stop in my tracks and I start to cry and say "You're not supposed to be here. You're dead! What are you doing here??" He gives me a hug around the shoulder and says, "It's ok. I'm here" I could feel his hand around me. I could picture his hands and his freckly arm. I could see his baby blue eyes and his silvery hair.
I miss him with everything I am. I know some of you unfortunately can relate to my situation but for the most of you, I wish you're parents will die old. I wish this pain upon no one.
This is a posting my dad wrote on Facebook after I wrote the March 10th blog posting titled 'Untitled'. It shows how truly selfless and devoted he was...
Kristi, you made me cry again! I am a blessed man to a loving wife and two great kids that love me dearly.
I'm glad you are able to express your frustration and anger with God. But I am also glad that you recognize God's hand protecting me ...through these many years after the Hodgkin's disease since 1976! I am especially please that God brought you and Benji into my life to have someone call me Dad! We serve a God who does know our pain! Jesus suffered more than I can even imagine! He pleaded with his father to take this suffering away. But in the end, He followed His Father's will.
I don't like this road we are on but I sense this holding my hand. This hand has a scar right in the middle. He is going to walk us through this. He understands our pain and grief.
I love you and Benji!
Your Dad
It's been INCREDIBLY hard for me to put effort into anything these days. I'm so much more irritated faster and easier than ever now. When people start talking about their problems that can't even begin to compare to my situation I go into attack mode. Unless you have lost a parent too young, you don't know what I'm going through. It seems harsh, but what I'm going through is off the charts compared to what you are-----this is how I feel.
It's also incredibly hard to be forgotten. Once dad died, the letters stopped. The "how are you doing" stopped. It's hard to be forgotten when you're in such a enormous amount of pain. I know life goes on but I'm still just as hurt if not more than ever. I feel so guilty for not mentioning to my friends who have lost a parent to early that they still remain in my mind, now more than ever.
I feel like I will never to 100% myself again. I feel so hurt to my core. I feel so angry and so mad. Words aren't can't even begin to explain. I miss him so deeply and so strongly. I've never imagined in a million years I would be going through this. It's always someone else. These kind of things never happen to "me". I suppose it can be compared to someone who has gone through a hurricane or some huge storm and lost everything. Except at this point, I'd rather lose all my belongings just to have my daddie back.
He was in my dream two nights ago. In my dream I knew he had died. My mom and I were walking by a forest and we look over and see a man walking towards us from the forest wearing a Cubs t-shirt. We realize it's my dad and we're so confused. I stop in my tracks and I start to cry and say "You're not supposed to be here. You're dead! What are you doing here??" He gives me a hug around the shoulder and says, "It's ok. I'm here" I could feel his hand around me. I could picture his hands and his freckly arm. I could see his baby blue eyes and his silvery hair.
I miss him with everything I am. I know some of you unfortunately can relate to my situation but for the most of you, I wish you're parents will die old. I wish this pain upon no one.
This is a posting my dad wrote on Facebook after I wrote the March 10th blog posting titled 'Untitled'. It shows how truly selfless and devoted he was...
Kristi, you made me cry again! I am a blessed man to a loving wife and two great kids that love me dearly.
I'm glad you are able to express your frustration and anger with God. But I am also glad that you recognize God's hand protecting me ...through these many years after the Hodgkin's disease since 1976! I am especially please that God brought you and Benji into my life to have someone call me Dad! We serve a God who does know our pain! Jesus suffered more than I can even imagine! He pleaded with his father to take this suffering away. But in the end, He followed His Father's will.
I don't like this road we are on but I sense this holding my hand. This hand has a scar right in the middle. He is going to walk us through this. He understands our pain and grief.
I love you and Benji!
Your Dad
It's been INCREDIBLY hard for me to put effort into anything these days. I'm so much more irritated faster and easier than ever now. When people start talking about their problems that can't even begin to compare to my situation I go into attack mode. Unless you have lost a parent too young, you don't know what I'm going through. It seems harsh, but what I'm going through is off the charts compared to what you are-----this is how I feel.
It's also incredibly hard to be forgotten. Once dad died, the letters stopped. The "how are you doing" stopped. It's hard to be forgotten when you're in such a enormous amount of pain. I know life goes on but I'm still just as hurt if not more than ever. I feel so guilty for not mentioning to my friends who have lost a parent to early that they still remain in my mind, now more than ever.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Belonging???
Yesterday there was a benefit in honor of my dad for my mom to help out with bills and whatever else she needs.
A lot of people showed up! A lot of people I didn't expect to show up which really meant a lot including 3 out of the 4 of Brandon's sisters and moms brother Greg and his wife Colleen.
It was great to have so much family there and to see those who came to the benefit. I was so happy that they made the effort and wanted to be there. It just sucked entirely that the reason we were all gathered together is because my dad is dead.
I'm so glad that most people don't have to go through this journey that I am now. It is not for just anyone to experience. What made God think I could handle this I have NO idea.
There are hourly reminders that he is gone. I hate waking up knowing at the end of the day marks another day that time has passed and it's now 6 weeks since he's been gone. I dread everyday. I dread knowing that someday I'll have to say "he's been gone for a year, for five years, for ten".
Mom seems to be handling it as best she can. I truly believe that my dad having cancer back in the 70's prepared her for imagining life without her husband. It doesn't hurt that her therapy is to talk and she has gotten a lot of opportunity to do such.
Besides the fact that dad is gone, one of THE hardest things is to listen to people stories of how their life is horrible. I know they don't mean to be insensitive but it's just sssoooooooooo hard.
Mom and I went to the 509 Community, a church in Huntington, last Sunday to see a good friend of ours, Nabrissa, that was on a short furlough from Senegal, Africa and we stayed for most of the service. I had gone to the 509 for 6 years. Nabrissa and her husband Tim decided to go to Senegal a year ago and Brandon and I decided then to leave the 509. We loved the preacher, Heath and seeing Tim and Nabrissa every week, but nothing else. But since Nabrissa was in town and was there, we went to see her. My mom was greeted by the new pastor and others before the service. Afterwards my mom mentioned how strange it was for everyone to say hi to her and ask how she was doing when no one asked about me yet I had been the one to go there for 6 years. I hadn't thought about that until she said something. I told her, I wouldn't expect them to even know my name. And it's true-the new pastor introduced himself to me yesterday at the benefit apolizing he didn't earlier last Sunday when I'm pretty sure I've been going to that church longer than him. Like I said, we loved the way Heath taught and seeing Tim and Nabrissa, and that was it.
It's so hard to find that niche. That community sense. I left College Park (my parents church) half way thru high school because it wasn't there. I stayed at a church were a girl who had been going to the 509 less than I introduced herself to me like I was new. We now go to Emmanuel in Fort Wayne but one of the biggest churches in Fort Wayne. We are foruntate enough to have another married couple who we've created a great bond with that goes there which is why we found ourselves there.
At such a time I crave for the feeling of belonging. I've always struggled with never feeling like I belong. I'm a Mexican-American who was adopted, grew up in Papua New Guinea and now live in Fort Wayne, IN. Where do I belong to begin with? Where is home? Let alone to feel so alone spiritually. Not in the sense that I don't feel God's presence but in the sense that there is no Christian community. I have struggled and struggled and struggled with this for years. And now when I need it the most, it's no where to be found.
A lot of people showed up! A lot of people I didn't expect to show up which really meant a lot including 3 out of the 4 of Brandon's sisters and moms brother Greg and his wife Colleen.
It was great to have so much family there and to see those who came to the benefit. I was so happy that they made the effort and wanted to be there. It just sucked entirely that the reason we were all gathered together is because my dad is dead.
I'm so glad that most people don't have to go through this journey that I am now. It is not for just anyone to experience. What made God think I could handle this I have NO idea.
There are hourly reminders that he is gone. I hate waking up knowing at the end of the day marks another day that time has passed and it's now 6 weeks since he's been gone. I dread everyday. I dread knowing that someday I'll have to say "he's been gone for a year, for five years, for ten".
Mom seems to be handling it as best she can. I truly believe that my dad having cancer back in the 70's prepared her for imagining life without her husband. It doesn't hurt that her therapy is to talk and she has gotten a lot of opportunity to do such.
Besides the fact that dad is gone, one of THE hardest things is to listen to people stories of how their life is horrible. I know they don't mean to be insensitive but it's just sssoooooooooo hard.
Mom and I went to the 509 Community, a church in Huntington, last Sunday to see a good friend of ours, Nabrissa, that was on a short furlough from Senegal, Africa and we stayed for most of the service. I had gone to the 509 for 6 years. Nabrissa and her husband Tim decided to go to Senegal a year ago and Brandon and I decided then to leave the 509. We loved the preacher, Heath and seeing Tim and Nabrissa every week, but nothing else. But since Nabrissa was in town and was there, we went to see her. My mom was greeted by the new pastor and others before the service. Afterwards my mom mentioned how strange it was for everyone to say hi to her and ask how she was doing when no one asked about me yet I had been the one to go there for 6 years. I hadn't thought about that until she said something. I told her, I wouldn't expect them to even know my name. And it's true-the new pastor introduced himself to me yesterday at the benefit apolizing he didn't earlier last Sunday when I'm pretty sure I've been going to that church longer than him. Like I said, we loved the way Heath taught and seeing Tim and Nabrissa, and that was it.
It's so hard to find that niche. That community sense. I left College Park (my parents church) half way thru high school because it wasn't there. I stayed at a church were a girl who had been going to the 509 less than I introduced herself to me like I was new. We now go to Emmanuel in Fort Wayne but one of the biggest churches in Fort Wayne. We are foruntate enough to have another married couple who we've created a great bond with that goes there which is why we found ourselves there.
At such a time I crave for the feeling of belonging. I've always struggled with never feeling like I belong. I'm a Mexican-American who was adopted, grew up in Papua New Guinea and now live in Fort Wayne, IN. Where do I belong to begin with? Where is home? Let alone to feel so alone spiritually. Not in the sense that I don't feel God's presence but in the sense that there is no Christian community. I have struggled and struggled and struggled with this for years. And now when I need it the most, it's no where to be found.
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