Low Days
I haven’t written much more about dealing with my dad’s unexpected passing. Part of that is because I don’t want to bore you with my grief. But mostly it’s been because I am a firm believer in thinking the thoughts you want to feel. If you surround yourself with sadness, you’ll be sad. If you surround yourself with laughter, then you’ll be happy.
Well, in a very shallow, theoretical nutshell.
But sometimes, when you stuff all that sadness into that shallow, theoretical nutshell, it just wells up after a while. That’s what has happened to me this past week.
The loss of my dad is with me every day. I think about him all the time, but usually I try not to think about it. In those first few weeks, it almost felt good to think about the sadness. Comforting, somehow. As if feeling the sadness kept Dad close by. But as the weeks have gone by, that comforting sadness has passed and now it just hurts to be so upset. So, I have found the best way to deal with it is to keep myself busy, which, thankfully, is not hard to do in our house. In those down times when all is quiet, like early in the morning or at night before bed, I have been reading to take my mind away. I go through books like crazy these days, but it keeps my mind from being idle.
No matter how hard I try, though, that sadness has to go somewhere. You can only ignore it for so long before it has to be released. Those waves of palpable grief used to hit me out of nowhere. I would suddenly become consumed by sadness without any warning, and the tears would shake me as bad as they did in that first week. As time has gone by, I’ve had less and less of those unexpected moments. Now, I know when they are coming because I’ve learned to recognize the signs.
First, I notice that I can’t stop talking about my dad. Not in a sad way or anything, but I just bring him up a bit more in conversations. When that starts to happen, I start to think about him more directly. Not just about life in general without him, but about specific things. Like, I’ll remember how he used to walk into rooms, raise his arms over his head and announce, “Well, I’m here!” Or I’ll think about how every time he used to hug me goodbye, he used to whisper in my ear, “You’re such a great mom, Kitten.” Really vivid, distinct memories of him that I normally try to avoid thinking about.
When I start having those kinds of painfully sweet memories, I’ll start to wish that I could cry. For all the jokes I make about crying and boo-hooing over things, I’m actually not much of a crier. But thinking about my dad, I’ll start to wish I would just go ahead and cry and get it over with. Because I know that it’s coming. And usually, within a day or two of those thoughts, it will just all come sweeping over me one day.
Usually it’s at night just after I’ve put the kids to bed. That’s a hard time for me, especially lately. Gracie has become enthralled with pictures of my dad. A couple weeks ago, I framed a picture for each of the kids rooms of each of them with Dad. Gracie loves the picture I put in her room. Every night before she goes to bed, she wants to show me the picture of “ga-dad” and every morning when she wakes up it is the first thing she points to. We usually sit and talk to her picture for a couple minutes, and I tell her how much Granddad loves her and we say “I love you” to Granddad, too. I love that, but it is also really hard and occasionally, I’ll put her down and then have to go sit in my room for a couple minutes by myself.
Bean has had such an odd reaction to Dad’s passing. He doesn’t want to talk about him at all, but every couple weeks, he’ll ask me a question out of the blue. Usually, it’s about where Granddad has gone. He knows that Granddad has gone to Heaven to live with God, and he knows that God and Granddad both love us very much. But he has become increasingly interested in what and where exactly Heaven is (proving beyond the shadow of a doubt that he in, in fact, his father’s son…).
Last week was the most satisfying conversation we’ve had about Dad, actually, for both of us. Randomly, on the way home from school one day, Bean asked me where Granddad and God’s house was. I told him (again) that their house was in Heaven. Bean thought about that for a minute and then said, “And Heaven is up in the sky, right?” He thought about that some more and then asked one of the most important, significant, profound questions a person can ask.
“What does God’s house look like?” he said.
I had to take a breath before answering because he took my breath away for a second.
“Well,” I said, trying to think quickly on my Mom feet and try to pull my very little knowledge of the Book of Revelations out of my head. “I haven’t been to his house before, but I think it has gold on the floors there and treasure in the walls.”
“Wow!” Bean gasped. “Treasure like in Jake and the Neverland Pirates?”
“Yes!” I said, deciding to go with that.
“That’s so cool!”
“It is pretty cool,” I agree.
“And what do God and Granddad do there together?” Bean asked.
“Well, I bet they play games and talk and make jokes together, just like you do with your friends.”
“Oh,” Bean said, thinking that over. “That would be fun.”
“You know what else I bet they do? I bet they talk about how much Granddad misses hanging out with you. You were always his favorite to hang out with, you know.”
“Yeah,” said Bean quietly. “Do you think I could go play with them, too?”
“One day,” I said, all choked up. “One day we will all go play together with them. And I can’t wait.”
“Me either,” said Bean.
Bean sat there for a minute and then said thoughtfully, “I bet Granddad is having a great time.”
It is so very, very hard to be a parent sometimes and it is so very, very hard to live a normal life while grieving. But sometimes when those two things collide, it seems like my heart is literally breaking.
I know it won’t always be like this, but I’ll tell you, right now in this moment, the loss of my dad feels overwhelming. This weekend, my mom and I were having a low moment together and through her tears, she said, “It feels greedy to be sad because we have so much to be thankful for.” And I know just what she meant, but I’m starting to think that happy and sad aren’t always balanced. Though the happiness we had with my dad and the happy memories we are able to hold onto far outweigh the sadness, they don’t replace it. While I would like to think that just being around happiness and laughter can block out the weight of grief, I think my very shallow, theoretical nutshell might be cracked. The sadness might be overwhelming and exhausting, but it is just a natural part of carrying the cross of mourning.
So, I have good days and I have low days. And that might be just how it’s supposed to be.
17 Comments
Lindsay (Young Married Mom)
Katie, you and your family are in my prayers. My faith is inspired and challenged by Bean’s questions and your conversations. You have a beautiful, beautiful boy. Thank you for sharing him and the rest of your heart with us.
Amanda E.
My cousin died not too long ago and we found a really awesome book about Heaven to help my daughter understand a little about what Heaven is like. The title is God Gave Us Heaven by Lisa Bergren. It’s from a Christian perspective and is written on a toddler/preschooler level. This book really helped my daughter understand what my cousin might be doing in Heaven and how much he is enjoying it. I am so sorry for your loss!
Alaina
Oh that interaction…wow. Someone so little can be so insightful. My niece was the same way when my grandpa died. I am sending prayers to you and your family, that you find somecomfort and peace.
Rebecca @ The Reluctant Housewife
I think that’s EXACTLY how it’s supposed to be, good days and low days. This is a season, and you’re walking through it with such grace. I can’t imagine having that conversation with one of my kids about one of my parents, and you did it was grace… even though it ripped your heart out. Btw, I think there’s one specific chapter in Revelations that talks about what heaven will look like/be like… try chapters 21 and 22… there’s some great stuff in there that Bean will understand even at his age, like “God will wipe away ever tear from our eyes”…
Ashley @ A Recipe for Sanity
It’s completely normal for you to have those low moments, and it’s completely normal to have a tough time thinking and talking about your dad. I’m glad that Bean has you to help him through this time, and that all of you are going through this process together. I pray you all have more peace and comfort as the days go on.
Christina
As a reader, I want to make you feel better, but honestly, everything I can think to say sounds trite, even though it is true. What a conversation with Bean!
And you should not feel sorry about sharing your grief with those who read here. No one will be bored by it! And you are likely helping someone else who is experiencing something like what you are. You have a way of being able to name things, to put stuff into words that others might have a hard time doing, but will really appreciate reading what you have to say, be able to say,”That’s what I am feeling! I am not crazy; I am normal, this is a part of the process.” I don’t know…I think you are ministering to people. Praying for you.
Christina
P.S. And that picture of Bean and your dad is Precious (yes, with a capital “P”).
Brooke
It helps me to remember that happiness and sadness aren’t two sides of the same coin. They can (and often do) exist side by side and overlap. It’s complicated and confusing, but it’s also an essential part of being human. I’m so sorry you have to miss your dad.
Chloe
Your lovely, lovely sentiments and I’m sorry for your hard times. X
Jamie
oh how i love when you share the deep parts of your heart. and the picture of bean and your dad {priceless}. you are loved, beautiful katie.
Joke
Hang in there Katie! I’ve been wondering often how you have been doing so I don’t think you’re boring, we’re concerned about you and your family…
It’s crazy Gracie is so interested in that picture, no matter how young she is, her grandpa must mean the world to her…
Melissa
As usual, your post about your dad made me cry. I’m so glad you chose to write about this. Last Friday was the three year anniversary of my dad’s passing. I cannot believe it’s been so long. When I think of how long it’s been since I talked to him or hugged him, I’m shocked. At first, it seemed impossible just to exist in a world without my dad.
I’m so glad you chose to write this post. My husband and I are trying to have a baby and every so often I’ll think, “What am I doing? Why would I have a baby who will never know my dad?” I just feel like no child could ever have as happy or fulfilling a childhood as I did without my dad there. I cry over babies who aren’t even here yet and worry about how I’ll ever explain the awesomeness that was my dad. I cannot imagine handling my grief along with the grief of a child and trying to explain granddad, heaven, and all in a way that makes sense to a toddler!
Lori @ I Can Grow People
Thinking of you, Katie. Hugs from very cold, rainy Pittsburgh…
SanDee
Katie, my grandpa passed away a month ago…and my oldest kids half brother passed away the night before my grandpa…trying to deal with helping them through their grief when I feel completely overwhelmed with my own grief has been so hard…Its reassuring to know that I’m not completely loosing it and that I’m not alone… thank you for writing about your grief…it is definitely helping me in my own grief…
Shannon P
Oh Katie…If only you knew how many are praying over and with your family. The beauty of a child knowing that “they must be having a great time”…Indeed they are. Bean is your comfort as you are his. That conversation says it all. Your baby boy knows the greatest thing of all : “LOVE”. (and now I am crying) ….You are lifted in prayer….
Sarah H.
I actually really appreciate these posts on your grief. It’s not often that we get to see what grief is like, and I think you do a wonderful job telling your story. Thank you! It has opened my eyes and will hopefully make me a better friend.
Christy
First you’re in my prayers on the loss of your Dad.
Second I just have to say, your thoughts on the whole surrounding yourself with laughter you’ll be happy, is one of the biggest lines of bull I’ve possibly ever read. It’s NOT biblical at all. I would encourage you to really get into the word. No where do you see Jesus telling his followers to surround themselves with “happy people” so that they can be happy. Happiness is fleeting and as you grow in the Lord you will learn this. Joy is from God and God alone. You could surround yourself with unhappy people on a daily basis, and if you were in the word, you would still have joy.
Grief is something the Lord gives us and wants us to experience, not because he wants us to hurt, but so that we can have compassion for those who ARE hurting.
I am sorry if I sound like I’m lecturing, my heart truly hurts for you. I do NOT know the loss of a parent yet, but I do know the loss of a child. If the Lord has led you to blog, he’s led you to be HONEST in that blog and grief is one of the most honest times in our life.
I hope you’ll allow the LORD to work in your life vs trying to control things.
I know you don’t know me, just know this is written with true compassion.