New Year, New World
I have stopped and started this post a couple of times. I have an idea of what I want to say, but have lacked the words to say it right. It seems to be a theme of my year.
Last year on January 1, we were muddling through the days, having an idea of what was coming, but lacking the knowledge of what that would truly mean. We were watching Dad wither away, becoming someone new, someone different, knowing he was dying, but not knowing when. I was able to see my Daddy be weak, but simultaneously strong. It was painful and heart wrenching. But, I got to have some special moments with my dad, which I would never ever trade and I will cherish them always.
My new year started on January 14, when Dad took his last, peaceful breath, after talking with angels, and meeting his long deceased, beloved parents for a picnic for several days. After I said my own goodbye to him, staring in his eyes. There was so much beauty in his transition, but the pain of him being gone was acute and sharp.
I woke up in a new world. One where my dad was no longer there. I had an idea of what it meant, but lacked the true understanding of what it would mean.
I fell down. I had trouble getting up. I lost motivation for all the things that made me who I was. Competition (even with myself), running, yard work (yes, it's weird, but I love it), and just working out. My house started suffering with my lack of motivation to take care of it. I feared that I was failing...at everything: parenting, being a wife, being a good daughter, sister, and friend. I became a part of my couch as often as I could, and waffled between being OK, and being a disaster. I had times of fun and laughter, and then times of despair. I had times of strength, and times of tremendous weakness. With my lack of motivation came weight gain. With weight gain came disappointment. With disappointment came the fear and guilt of letting my father, who supported me and was so proud of my athleticism and hard work ethic, down in an epic blaze of failure. I would not say I was in a deep depression, but I definitely had moments and times that lead me to believe I was headed that way.
The script changed for me in October. When my sister got married there was more joy than sadness. More laughter than tears. More love than hurt. Realizing what I still had in my life as a result of the life my father had given me woke me up. The pure honesty of the love between my sister and her husband, my nephew in my sister's belly, the pure fun between my siblings and I, the pure innocence of the young kids running around and my infant great niece smiling up at me reminded me that there was still so much good stuff happening in my life.
It was then that I started trying again. Living. I began doing more in my days that was productive. As I cleaned out some clutter, my brain seemed to clear. I was taking better care of my house, and it opened me up to take better care of my family. More importantly, it opened me up to take better care of myself. I began to show interest in getting healthy and fit again. I am not a runner again, I am not there yet mentally. I did begin a 5:30 am boot camp 3 days a week, and I am loving it. I am rediscovering my physical strength. It has only been just under a month, but I am setting goals and planning on sticking to it.
I have needed this boost, especially going into this coming week. This is the week that we are placing Dad in his final resting place. He has the distinct honor of earning his place at Arlington Cemetery through his commitment to the country. This will be beautiful, honorable, and oh, so painful. I could not be more proud of this honor for MY Daddy. His wishes were to be laid here, "if he qualified." Yes, Pops, you qualified. In many ways.
Last year on January 1, we were muddling through the days, having an idea of what was coming, but lacking the knowledge of what that would truly mean. We were watching Dad wither away, becoming someone new, someone different, knowing he was dying, but not knowing when. I was able to see my Daddy be weak, but simultaneously strong. It was painful and heart wrenching. But, I got to have some special moments with my dad, which I would never ever trade and I will cherish them always.
My new year started on January 14, when Dad took his last, peaceful breath, after talking with angels, and meeting his long deceased, beloved parents for a picnic for several days. After I said my own goodbye to him, staring in his eyes. There was so much beauty in his transition, but the pain of him being gone was acute and sharp.
I woke up in a new world. One where my dad was no longer there. I had an idea of what it meant, but lacked the true understanding of what it would mean.
I fell down. I had trouble getting up. I lost motivation for all the things that made me who I was. Competition (even with myself), running, yard work (yes, it's weird, but I love it), and just working out. My house started suffering with my lack of motivation to take care of it. I feared that I was failing...at everything: parenting, being a wife, being a good daughter, sister, and friend. I became a part of my couch as often as I could, and waffled between being OK, and being a disaster. I had times of fun and laughter, and then times of despair. I had times of strength, and times of tremendous weakness. With my lack of motivation came weight gain. With weight gain came disappointment. With disappointment came the fear and guilt of letting my father, who supported me and was so proud of my athleticism and hard work ethic, down in an epic blaze of failure. I would not say I was in a deep depression, but I definitely had moments and times that lead me to believe I was headed that way.
The script changed for me in October. When my sister got married there was more joy than sadness. More laughter than tears. More love than hurt. Realizing what I still had in my life as a result of the life my father had given me woke me up. The pure honesty of the love between my sister and her husband, my nephew in my sister's belly, the pure fun between my siblings and I, the pure innocence of the young kids running around and my infant great niece smiling up at me reminded me that there was still so much good stuff happening in my life.
It was then that I started trying again. Living. I began doing more in my days that was productive. As I cleaned out some clutter, my brain seemed to clear. I was taking better care of my house, and it opened me up to take better care of my family. More importantly, it opened me up to take better care of myself. I began to show interest in getting healthy and fit again. I am not a runner again, I am not there yet mentally. I did begin a 5:30 am boot camp 3 days a week, and I am loving it. I am rediscovering my physical strength. It has only been just under a month, but I am setting goals and planning on sticking to it.
I have needed this boost, especially going into this coming week. This is the week that we are placing Dad in his final resting place. He has the distinct honor of earning his place at Arlington Cemetery through his commitment to the country. This will be beautiful, honorable, and oh, so painful. I could not be more proud of this honor for MY Daddy. His wishes were to be laid here, "if he qualified." Yes, Pops, you qualified. In many ways.
Through the pain and heartache of this week, I will be surrounded by my family. I will be surrounded by love. Cloaked in prayers. Reminded of just how special this man was and that all that he created so that we could learn it. That is the beauty in losing someone, if there is any. You are reminded of just how much they gave you so that you can go on and share it with others.
So, my new year may return to January 1 in time. With the help of my friends and family, to live, laugh, and love I will get there. My new world will become my real world. And it will be good.
Comments
Post a Comment