Dark Spring

Some days I wake up and think, today will be a great day. I already feel light. More so if the sun is shining. I feel like I'm going to be okay.

Then I remember. My mind slips to autopilot doing daily chores that should be done. If I'm still overwhelmed and can't think, I clean.

Today, a month ago, we sat in the stone chapel while sharply dressed military men recited from a piece of paper their gratitude for dad's service to his country. When they fired their rounds into the sky, I heard the brass casings ping off the bricks. Then they handed a folded triangular flag to my step mom.

I still couldn't believe it. I couldn't connect to it, actually felt like I was watching this happen to other people, not me or my family. Even thought I stood in the hospital and heard the pronouncement, still know the time of day, can see through the window to outside, still see several people milling around looking morose. It just happened. It feels like the day before yesterday.

I don't remember much of the last 31 days, making 31 pots of coffee, packing lunches or doing laundry but once, even though I did it every week.
I Can't, and I Don't Care fight over who will own my day. I walk Sam to school and then walk on to the Library where no one bothers me.

The great news I received yesterday about the publications thrilled me and even made me smile, and I hung onto it as long as I could. But by evening I could barely breathe for crying.

My dad isn't around to hear my good news and cheer me on. It was like seeing a candle go out. My world felt a little lonelier, a little darker and a little sadder too. He was that powerful encourager for many, I realized. His words rewarded that drive to succeed, that need to be recognized, appreciated, patted on the back.
I missed it, missed him. In that moment, the loss crystallized into grief. The kind of grief that folds a person in two and pulls their eyelids into flat crinkles had finally found me.

My lightness slipped away and I wanted to take my sad self and heavy heart back to bed. After some cleansing tears, the Lord reminded me that I have a circle of people who are very excited about the accomplishments of my life. They enjoy being included in the good reports. And just so you know, I am really grateful more than ever for those who love me.