I made it through all the firsts. The first yoga class I had to teach since he died. The first Thursday. The first week. The first month. Easter. My first birthday with out him. (although I listened to the voicemail from 2014 when he sang happy birthday to me.) Father’s day. His birthday. Family gatherings. Veteran’s Day. Halloween, when he would lead the parade through our neighborhood on his motorcycle. Thanksgiving. Christmas. Then of course all the days in between.
And now we are here. The last first. Friday will be the last first anniversary of his death. His trip to Heaven.
I will never forget that day, January 8th, as long as I live. On January 1st, we all gathered in Blowing Rock for dinner. That was the last time I saw my dad alive and well. That night when he got home, he had a bad fall, and was rushed to the hospital and there he stayed. He got better, and got worse, and better and worse. He had one surgery and got better. I spoke to him on the phone after that and we talked about how much fun we had in Blowing Rock. Then he had another surgery and got worse. The morning of January 8th, I drove to Tennessee to say good bye. That was a rough car ride. I was by myself, and the song “Happy” came on constantly. I eventually turned off the radio and mentally wrote out the eulogy while driving and drinking my weight in Diet Dr. Pepper. When I got to the hospital, he was bruised, bandaged up, hooked up to machines, and groaning in pain. Even though he couldn’t speak and didn’t open his eyes, I know he knows I was there. I know he felt my energy in that room. I know he felt me trying to fill him up with healing light and take away his pain. I know he felt my hand hold his. I know he heard the memories I shared with him.
Grief sucks. big time. There is no other way I can put it. It is heavy, and thick and your heart feels literally broken. Like today, I woke up and I am happy and grateful and serene. But my chest feels tight, like there is a heavy brick on it. Or like constant heart burn. I heard that it does get easier. But then it gets hard again.
I ask for my dad to send me signs all the time. And he does. Songs on the radio, motorcycles, or sometimes the smell of grass and coffee come out of nowhere. He comes to me in dreams. Sometimes these dreams are so happy and make me laugh. Other times, they are too much to handle, and I cry.
I do wish I could physically talk to him though. (and have him answer back!) Too many times, something funny has happened. Or my kids did something amazing. Or Daniel did something sweet. Or I want to call and tell him about my promotions. He loved being self-employed and I know he would absolutely love sharing my Plexus success with me. He was my biggest cheerleader.
He still is my biggest cheerleader. I see himsometimes…he looks almost like a hologram. His chest is puffed up really big and he is so very proud of me.
Never a dull moment around this guy. Even his headstone reads, “He made us laugh.” (I am not even kidding.)
For a year, I have had fresh flowers in my house. (Even if I have to buy them for myself!) I know now exactly what he meant when he always told me to give the flowers to the living.
So, what now? Is this going to be the year of seconds?
Nope. Not that I won’t think about it. It will never go away. But I think I need to keep making him proud by doing my thing. Following my dreams and my strong intuition.
This is my year to aim big. I plan on aiming so big that when I see his chest all puffed up it looks like he is going to explode because he is so proud. I’ll aim big to be a strong Christian. I’ll aim big to be a loving wife and caring mother. I’ll aim big to be an inspirational yoga teacher. I’ll aim big to keep my blog real and true to me. I’ll aim big to walk the walk. I’ll aim big in my Plexus business. I’ll aim big in my travel plans. I’ll aim big to treat others with kindness.
Oh. And I will not be late. I’ll be early. Because, “early is on time and on time is late.” 🙂