Category Archives: grief

I’ve been MIA from my blog for far too long. The main reason for not writing, and having absolutely no inspiration to write,  is living through the ‘stages of grief‘.

They say grief is healthy when it’s fluid (you don’t stagnate in one stage, although you can experience each stage more than once, and the stages don’t necessarily occur in order). I’ve come to determine that my grief is normal and healthy. To keep it that way I have to just let it happen. Trying to control it isn’t a good idea. Being swallowed by it isn’t either. What applies is that good old cliché: taking it one step at a time.

I’ve been refraining from writing about my grief because I figure no one wants to hear it. I also have to say that I’m not really interested in the opinions of tons of well meaning people telling me how to ‘get over it’. I don’t want to get over it. Sometimes I actually wallow it in – and I think that’s ok. I guess I’m trying to balance that fine line of being open and honest about it, and not burdening others with it. Caring words, a hug, a great quote, a memory, or some encouragement is of course welcome.

I’m in a transition phase at work as I’ve just come out of a 20 month temporary position. I have a permanent full time contract so I don’t lose my job, but the question is: “what happens next?”. I’ve learned a tremendous amount over the past 20 months and I’m looking forward to using that knowledge going forward. As details get ironed out there is a phone call that I’m desperate to make – but no one will pick up on the other end.

My beloved husband is in a transition phase at work as well. Monday he starts a full time job after having his own business for 3 years. That’s a big change. A change from the unpredictable, exciting, and at times rather nerve-wracking to something stable and predictable. It will be good. The one person who would be the most excited to discuss the details of this whole thing with me isn’t here. The person who would cheer us on into this new phase of our lives. The person who would patiently listen to every little detail without (seemingly) getting bored.

My little Kari has trouble with knee and back pain and has to get regular physical therapy. She’ll be fine, but it’s both an emotional challenge and a scheduling challenge to deal with. Again… who would listen patiently to my every rant and worry? Who would step up and help out when the scheduling puzzle didn’t work out? My dad would have.

Every day there are several moments when I’m overwhelmed by the loss of my beloved father. Every single day my cheeks get soaked with tears. A piece of my heart is an open wound. I suppose one day it will go from wound to scar, but I’m realizing that it’s going to take a very long time.

This pain is unlike any other pain.

I look in the mirror and I see someone who looks pale and exhausted. I look unhealthy. Grief has a physical manifestation.

And in the midst of it all – I’m happy. How strange is that? I’m so deeply thankful for the loving husband I get to be married to. I’m so thankful that I have two lovely, bright, funny, loving, and awesome little girls who tell me they love me every single day. I’m so thankful for the stability to come, and my brand new refrigerator. I’m so thankful for snuggles on the couch, board games, and car rides with with music blasting from the speakers – and the somewhat tone-deaf but exuberant singing-along of mother and daughters. I’m so thankful for my comfy sheets and my good friends. I’m so thankful for having the best lunch buddies at work any girl could ever want! I’m so thankful for so many things. I try to make an effort to notice what I’m thankful for. My father wouldn’t have wanted me to drown in sorrow. He would want me to live and to be happy. So as I mourn him I also honor him by not letting it destroy me.

I love you Pappa. I miss your smile.