My sweet daddy left us to be with Jesus on November 5, 2019. I had talked to him that morning on the phone not knowing it would be the last conversation I would have with him.
He was so kind and gentle -- a perfect PawPaw for my boys.
Even though it has been almost 7 months since he left us, I am struggling with this loss. I am doing all the things I am supposed to do for my family, for my job, for myself, but I am struggling... keeping the struggle on the inside as much as I can. For several months after he died, I would burst into tears seemingly out of nowhere, and it would upset my boys to see me sobbing suddenly.
I am better at controlling my emotions now but they are still rolling inside me.
My momma is not a sentimental person. She doesn't like clutter or mess. Seeing my daddy's clothes and shoes in his closet taking up space in the guest bedroom (which is where he kept his things) drove her crazy. First, seeing his clothes was a constant reminder that he was gone and that was so hard for her. Second, leaving his clothes in the closet meant that closet couldn't be used for anything else, and she wanted to have the space for her grandchildren when they came to spend the night. Third, she doesn't like clutter. He can't use his clothes anymore so they needed to be gone.
My sister and I wanted some of daddy's clothes to make keepsake items for ourselves and for the grandchildren. She and I were to get together and go through the clothes and divide them up between us, but we couldn't seem to coordinate our times to actually meet at the same time. So Michelle went through and got what she wanted and left me the remaining half to do with as I wanted . . . which is what I told her to do. It didn't matter to me which clothing items I got of daddy's.
So one afternoon, momma called me to please come pick up daddy's clothes that they had separated for me.
And there they were . . . my sweet daddy's clothes in garbage bags waiting on me to carry them off in my car.
Seeing his clothes in garbage bags really bothered me. I don't know why.
I left them in my car for a couple of weeks and then the boys helped me bring them inside. We took them out of the bags and carefully put them in a storage container.
Dave wanted me to go through them right away and decide which ones I was going to use and which ones I would donate, but I'm not quite ready for that yet.
So they wait carefully packed away until I can handle my daddy's clothes and make the keepsake items for me and my boys....
I knew this would be hard. Losing a parent is something everyone dreads and there is no way to prepare yourself for the void it leaves in your life. The worst part is I keep forgetting he's gone. For just a brief second . . . I forget . . . and then in another second, I remember . . . and the sadness and loss is there again.
So that's all I have to say on this for now.
Except it would be nice if you could say a prayer . . .