Hi Dad. It’s been a little while since I’ve written. I keep thinking the pain over you leaving is going to subside, but it doesn’t. I can cover it up better and change my thought patterns so I don’t cry every day all day, but the pain is great.
I talked to Mom this week and she said my brother is having a hard time and so is my sister in South Carolina. I want to see them so badly. I think we would have an amazing healing over you if we could get together and share what we are feeling. I don’t know how that will happen, so I will ask God for that gift.
I seem to be stuck between anger, denial and acceptance. Weird place to be. I never know which one will take over. Anger and denial go together. I want to scream at the universe sometimes. Then I think of all the people, everywhere, who are grieving the loss of someone they love and it makes me wonder about heaven and the afterlife. I believe God loves us so much…why does he put us here to live and love and then allow us to hurt so badly? This is what makes me think that we as humans truly only see a portion of the puzzle. Anyone with faith knows the power of God. I do. I turn to Him regularly, well…actually, I’ve been angry at him ever since you died. I don’t like that you were taken so quickly and at the young age of 72 when people live so much longer. I am not a person who can just keep pushing pain away…I need answers and resolutions. I think my journey to find those will bring me a greater understanding of God’s love for us. I’ve been forced to put my anger at God aside so He can speak to my heart, so I can learn what He wants me to know.
I would not have wanted you to live for years and years with cancer and what it did to you. The chemo racked your body with imbalances and sickness too. You took it like a trooper and never complained. I wish sometimes you had so I would have known to go home.
I miss you and I love you. Pain has a new definition since you left. Ironically, it is Rayna who comforts me most often. She says the sweetest things when she sees the tears well up in my eyes.
She’ll say, “Grandpa?” and I will nod yes.
Then she’ll say, “Mommy, it will be okay. Grandpa wouldn’t want you to be sad.”
And I’ll whisper, “I know”.
She’ll say, “I miss him too Mom.”
And I’ll smile at her. If I can’t stop the tears, she’ll put her little arms around my neck or she’ll pat me on the shoulder, but she doesn’t cry too. She told me two nights ago how much my dad loves me and how he isn’t gone, he’s right here, next to us.
She amazes me. She’ll be 10 this October.
Rayna was my late baby. I had her when I was 42. I remember a trip to Bradenton one time when she was there visiting with you and she went into the kitchen. You leaned toward me and said, “I’m really glad you had her.” That sentiment made me laugh at the time, but it brings me comfort now that you are not here to see her grow. You saw how special she is and you appreciated her like I do.
It’s time to get to work Dad, I have to go.
I hope Heaven is all it’s supposed to be. I hope you are there with Pete and Granny and Joey and Phillip and everyone else.
I love you.