Month: November 2021

Today marks 12 years since I lost my dad to cancer. In some ways it feels like it was a lifetime ago, when I was a different version of myself, before I had kids. And in other ways it feels like it was just yesterday I was talking to him on the phone, telling him about my latest adventures. I can still hear his laugh, see his smile, feel his joy, remember just how proud he was of me. Memories of carving pumpkins, playing card games, taking trips to visit family during the holidays, walking me down the aisle on my wedding day—they feel distant yet near in my heart.

Experiencing loss and grief was different with my dad than it is with Dave. The void is much greater. The pain is deeper when I remember the final days and his sickness. My day-to-day life has drastically changed, and I am propelled into this place where I need to be strong while still focusing on taking care of myself.

Grief is different for every loss, for every person. But what remains the same is the need for understanding. For compassion and connection. The need to feel loved and held in the midst of it. To know that in time, the chasm will not feel so wide between my old sense of self and this new place of uncertainty. In time, I will hold more joy in my heart and less sorrow.

What’s not talked about a lot with grief is the void. The place where you feel the absence of your loss, the drastic changes in your life, and the feeling like no one understands the depths of what you are going through. Wondering if anyone could possibly know what it feels like to be lost at sea, the waves crashing over you, knocking you backward and leaving you gasping for air. While no one has had the same experience as me, in ways we have all experienced grief and loss of some kind. And while no one completely understands my pain, it doesn’t mean that I am alone. One of the biggest lies we tell ourselves is that we are alone, or that we shouldn’t burden others with our pain.

It’s easy to feel alone in grief. After a time, people don’t reach out as often. Then the depths hit of what happened. I’ve come to realize that this is the point where we need to ask for help. To figure out a way even when it feels hard. I need to admit that though I may feel alone that no one wants me to walk alone.

I’ve started to recognize that self-care looks like admitting when you need help. I recently started seeing a counselor who has helped me start navigating where I am at, what I’ve gone through, and where I am going. I am starting to feel more like myself again, less anxious, and while the void is still there it isn’t cutting as deep. Slowly, I am adapting and finding my way. Experiencing more joy in the midst of it all.

I share all of this not for sympathy but to encourage those who may be in a place of uncertainty, who may be feeling alone, to reach out. Whether it’s to a counselor or trusted friend. It’s easy to sit in a place of despair and convince ourselves that we are better off figuring things out for ourselves but that only leads to a place of burnout. Of loneliness. Lies and untruths that we convince ourselves are true.

And while some days I do feel lonely I know that I am not alone. I have a wonderful church community, family, friends and colleagues who care for and support me. I am grateful to those who have walked alongside me through this journey and continue to be there for me, whether in person or just a phone call away.

The thing is, we aren’t meant to live this life alone. We are made for community, to carry one another’s burdens. Deep down, I know that people in my life wouldn’t hesitate to help me anytime. These truths are being etched on my heart. Each day I will embrace them, along with the blessings poured out for me.

Today, I am grateful for all of you who continue to pray for me and are there for me and the girls. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.