With a grateful heart, I have read every message and comment you’ve left, sympathizing with me over the loss of my Dad. It was a long, hard fight and he did us proud. So many of you have also lost a parent or other family member and I’m struck by how much the same our pain is, no matter where in the world we are, or what our life circumstances. We can relate to each other through the life experiences that we share. I actually thought twice about sharing that my Dad died. I know most people read blogs for inspiration and pretty things, but such a monumental life event will shape me forever and therefore, my blog that reflects me.
That so many people who don’t even know me (and those that do), took time out of their day to send a sweet word really touched me. The outpouring of love and support has been strongly felt and graciously received. I don’t mind admitting that I needed it. It makes me so glad I didn’t shut you out. And I thank you so very much for your own heart tugs over our loss.
My best friend drove 3 hours to stay with me this weekend and her medicine is the best kind. The flowers we’ve received are gorgeous and so thoughtful. We won’t do a formal service, but plan to do something intimate and special this summer to honor our Dad and his memory. Of course, life goes on and I’m actually thankful for the diversion. There’s no “relief” from losing someone, but I can say there is comfort in knowing they aren’t suffering and that the love you shared was acknowledged with nothing left unsaid or unfinished.
Our son started t-ball this weekend and seeing all those adorable little boys and girls all dressed up in their uniforms for the first time, amped up and ready to play ball was so fun that I can’t help but think to myself, “life is good.” Seeing the little cousins laugh and play is also good for the soul.
After the 8am t-ball game, we went out to breakfast. The parking lot was completely empty when we arrived, but after we finished and headed outside, I noticed a whole row of motorcycles parked just in front of car. My Dad loved to ride and I can’t help but choose to believe that those motorcycles on that Saturday morning were a sign from him. How cool is that?! Do you get those same kinds of signs? I’d be honored to know.
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