Right now I am thinking about how deeply sad I am. I think about how sad my mom must be and how I keep wondering if I should be more or less sad than her as if it really does matter who gets to be the “most sad.” My heart just aches. Like, actually aches. I can feel it. I felt it tonight when my husband turned on the Christmas station and the song came on that the carolers sing in the Jaws movie. Both, Christmas and the Jaws movie, make me think of my dad. I had to walk out of the room. My escape, the laundry room, because we know no one else in my family is going to willingly go in there. I cry. A. Lot. I wipe my face with a baby wipe and return to the rest of dinner clean up while the kids are rough housing with Jeremiah.
Grief doesn’t give you a warning or wait until you are prepared to be sad, until you have taken off your non-water proof mascara. But, luckily, I haven’t worn makeup except to church in months. The summer tan is no longer saving me. Henry said tonight, mom, why is your face so red? Jeremiah said, honey, you looked tired. Sadness, four children, moving in 3 days, and general aging is taking its toll.
Maybe I need to at least put the waterproof mascara on and some pressed powder. You would think that really wouldn’t be that hard. Two minutes tops right? Then, why isn’t it happening? I remember a few years ago, pre-twins, I even put those two items, along with some lip-gloss in my car hoping that could encourage the habit. Once the kids are buckled, I will certainly do it. Bert’s Bees is about it. Fail. But, my dad always thought I was beautiful. He told me every single time he saw me. In gym clothes, 9 months pregnant with twins, my wedding day, his face looked the same. I was adored. He really was my first love. There is no one I felt better around. I enjoyed myself the most with him.
He showed me what it meant to be comfortable in my skin, to take a compliment, and that kindness mattered. I wanted many more years with him to learn that even more; to see him walk out his days in such kindness, such beauty, such friendship. I wanted my children to see it. I wanted my husband to see it. There was just not enough time.
He would have loved this weekend coming up. I’m literally going crazy with stress but I can picture him walking up my huge front steps with his blue Duke sweatshirt on and khaki pants, saying “its all going to be ok.” He would hug Henry and Callaway, and kiss Lindley and Mills wishing them a happy second birthday. He would have loved to hold them, see them blow out their candles, and open their presents. He would have loved our new house, seeing our life unfold at my “big girl house” as my mom called it. He would have played with the kids in the back yard while mom and I arranged pictures and moved furniture to so many different places. He would have been so happy because we were happy.
I don’t know why he isn’t still here with us. I don’t know why he left us so early. God’s timing is perfect even when it is not the perfect time for me. I am trying to remember that and not cry through every Christmas song that plays from now until the New Year.
I'm a wife to Jeremiah, mother to Henry, Callaway, and twins, Lindley and Mills. I'm a follower of Jesus Christ, a supporter of women through pregnancy and birth, and wanna-be chef. I love the summer heat, reading historical fiction, watching HGTV and Sunday naps.