The Firsts

I knew the firsts would be hard.

That my heart would be heavy.

That my tears would be many.

That my body would ache.

I knew it would be hard.

My daddy dying of cancer after a 9-month battle continues to be the hardest thing I’ve ever experienced. I keep thinking it will get better, but I’m not sure better should be my goal. What does better even look like? Is better missing my daddy less? Or my love for him decreasing? If that is better, I don’t want better. Instead I’m trying to focus on managing. Managing my grief with my life and responsibilities, which is more difficult than I could have ever imagined.

Father’s Day was June 18^th and my daddy’s birthday was June 21^st. I knew that week would be difficult and filled with many emotions. I remember a year ago spending Father’s Day with my daddy. I remember the big birthday party my siblings and I threw for him. I remember how happy he was.

This year was different.

I spent Father’s Day at the cemetery.

I spent Father’s Day with tear filled eyes.

I spent Father’s Day wondering why God chose not to heal my daddy on earth.
I spent Father’s Day mourning.

And I decided that was okay and what I needed. 

I needed to sit in my grief.

To take care of my feelings and emotions.

To resist performing for those around me.

To allow myself to cry and be sad.

To not hold my feelings in.

I spend too much time ignoring my feelings for the sake of others. But I didn’t do that on Father’s Day. And Father’s Day was as hard and awful as I imagined. I have no silver lining or pretty bow to tie on that day. Father’s Day without my daddy sucked!

Thank goodness, God’s mercies are new every morning! My daddy’s birthday was filled with more happy emotions than sad ones. I still spent time crying and being sad. But mostly I smiled as I reminisced about memories of my daddy! My daddy loved golf and we played 9 holes in honor of him. I’m awful at golf, but felt connected to my daddy while playing. We ended his birthday with a celebration at one of his favorite restaurants surrounded by family and friends. I was moved by how many people came out to support us and honor my daddy. It reminded me of how many people my daddy touched & how I hope to live a life where people are positively impacted by me.

I got through the firsts.

I did it.

It was hard.

There were a lot of tears.

My heart ached.

But I also laughed.

And golfed 9 holes for the first time.

I spent time with family and experienced love and support from many people.

As I experience more firsts this year, I’ll use this post as a reminder that even with the heartache and pain, I know I will come through on the other side. 

Radio Silence

In 2014, I got married. It was perfect. I took 2 weeks off from work. When I returned to the office, everyone stopped by to see me.

To ask about how the wedding and honeymoon were.

To see pictures.

To hear stories about my amazing husband Emmanuel.

To get insight on all the details of the wedding day.

To celebrate with me.

I felt cared about. I felt supported. I felt like this big life event mattered to my colleagues and those around me.

Fast forward to January 2017. My daddy passed away after a 9-month battle with colon cancer. I took a week off work and classes. When I returned to campus, I did not receive the same welcome as I had 3 years prior when returning from my wedding & honeymoon. Instead of being warmly greeted, people avoided me like the plague. I got looks of pity or all out avoidance. This hurt. 5 months later I still feel the sting.

I felt ignored.

I felt sad.

I felt lonely.

Of course, there were some people who acknowledged his passing.

Of course, there were some people who called, texted, and sent flowers and cards.

Of course, I know most people around me cared.

But for some reason, they couldn’t figure out how to express their care in a tangible way to me.

And even though I felt hurt by the radio silence I experienced as I grieved, I can empathize because I’ve done the same thing before. Two of my best friends have each lost one of their parents. I did not express my care for them during those difficult times because I was afraid.

I was afraid to say the wrong thing.

I was afraid that bringing it up would make them sad.

I was afraid I’d make things worse.

The last 5 months have taught me that saying something is better than saying nothing. The reality is you never forget losing someone. It’s not like when someone brings up my daddy I’m like “OMG, he died?! I’d forgotten”. My daddy is on my mind all the time. When people bring him up it keeps his memory alive, gives me the space to talk about him, and makes me feel like losing him is acknowledged by those around me.

I’ve decided to say something to those who are grieving or experienced loss, even when it’s hard. Yesterday I stopped by one of my colleague’s office who recently lost her husband. I’d sent a card a week prior but felt it was important to visit her in person to express my care and just check in.

But, I was nervous!

I wanted to relate to her grief without making it about me.

I didn’t want to make her more upset.

I was scared I’d say the wrong thing.

Even though I had these doubts I still went to see her. We ended up having a good conversation.  She cried, I listened, and just let her know she’s thought of and cared for during this difficult time.

I write this for myself and for those who currently or will have people around them experience grief and loss. When people come back to work, or classes, or home, don’t ignore them. Don’t talk about the weather or some other non-important thing without first acknowledging their loss. Don’t avoid them. Instead ask them “how are you doing today?”, tell them “I’m so sorry for your loss”, give them a hug (I LOVE hugs), tell them “I see you and am happy you’re back." Just say anything. Because saying something is better than radio silence.