2018 will forever be the year I lost my father. Today we had to begin the process of going through his things. It is amazing how the sight of someone’s handwriting can punch you in the gut. We had a very specific mission today and it was hard not to be distracted by sentimental treasures. Like my great-grandmother’s bible. It wasn’t listed as a specific bequest, but as soon as we saw it, we knew it needed to go to my sister. I opened it up to take a peek inside and there was a note with my sister’s name in my dad’s handwriting. I laughed so hard. It was like he was there helping us. It made the day a little easier.
Grieving, I have learned, is not a process. It is a tsunami wave up front followed at completely random and unpredictable intervals with huge waves that would make even the the bravest surfer think twice. When those waves come, you have to be careful to not lose your internal compass of up and down or get carried away by the riptide. You can survive the waves, but they never really stop coming. You just learn better how to swim.
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