A Month of Finding Joy

November has been a dreary month.  A month full of sadness, pain, uncertainty, and struggle.  What I struggle with the most is seeing the joy.  It's been there, don't get me wrong, it's just been hard to soak it in, claim it as mine or truly want to enjoy it.  I fear December will be just as tough.  I want to be intentional in finding that joy and treasure it.   I'm going to find the simple moments, the every day moments that happen in the Christmas season and try to capture them in pictures.  My #decemberdaysofjoy 

Join me if you like!  Would love to peak into what brings you joy.

What I would Tell You

Well Dad, it's been one full month without you here.  One month of not hearing your voice answer the phone with "Hi Dear".  One month of not seeing your face, your smile, your gentle hands.  One month of no kisses on my cheek.  One month of learning the new language of past tense, having to correct myself when I say things like "going to Mom and Dad's" or "heading to my parents" or simply talking about you as if you were still there.  I love you and miss you.

There are so many things I would tell you if you were still here.  I'd let you read the kids report cards and tell you all about their teacher interviews.  I can picture you nodding in agreement with everything I was saying because you already know how amazing your grandkids are.  I'd tell you all about how we finally bought a new tap for the laundry tub and Dave installed it the very same day (then I'd have to ask you if you wanted the old tap for scrap).  I'd tell you all about our appointment at the bank and renewing our mortgage and what we learned there because I know how interested you would be in that.  I would tell you about my trip to the shop to have our van krowned, and how awkward waiting for it was, with some arguing receptionists.  I'd tell you that  Beth sold her pony, and how everything just fell into place so easily for her, and that she's already shopping for a horse, I know how your eyes would have lit up with that story.  You'd want to know that Dave had the mri on his knee and the results showed nothing wrong, so that very week he returned to volleyball and running.

I've put pictures of you up in the house.  The kids each have one on their dressers or book shelves.  I think of you all the time.  I have one a picture on my bedside table that I find myself looking at for long periods of time.  I miss seeing your face, and I just want to imprint your face in my memory, every expression.  Your face is so kind, loving, gentle.  I sure do miss you.

I'm still praying for Jesus to come back soon, so that the rest of us can all go together and be reunited.  And you know, the night Trump was named President, I honestly looked out the window to see if there were any signs.  Yes, that sounds crazy, and pretty silly, but I'm grasping on to every little bit of hope I can find.

I guess there would be one more thing I'd tell you Dad, and that would be that I'm okay, that we are okay.  Time continues to tick on, and with that comes all the things that have to be done in a day.  In all honesty, the night also carries a cloud of sadness, and there are times where falling asleep seems to accompany the flashbacks to the moments in hospital.  But God is so good.  He has filled us with peace and comfort.  He has filled our lives with people who have come along side us and in practical and most endearing, meaningful ways have carried us in our low moments and in that has brought "hard to come by" joy.  So we're okay.  Boy I would take you back in a heartbeat, but I keep reminding myself the amazing joy you must be experiencing in heaven.  You've had one month with Jesus, I can't be sad about that.  I just want to tell you that I love you Daddy.

Hope.

How Do You Say Goodbye?

My Dad passed away Saturday October 29, 2016.  This has been the most difficult thing I have ever faced in life so far.  I don't have many words to share because pain, it hurts too much.  This was what I shared at his celebration of life.....

 I can’t believe I’m here having to say goodbye to my Dad.  This is definitely the toughest thing I have faced in life so far.  It’s hard to know where to start when preparing something like this, so bare with me as I’m sure it won’t be eloquent and may be all over the place. 

My Dad was a very kind, compassionate and gentle man.  He had the biggest heart and loved us like crazy.  He was an amazing father.  He LOVED kids, probably explains why he had 5 of his own.  But I will always remember our Friday night trips into Orangeville, the first stop was always the bank.  Then we’d have dinner out, for my older siblings, this most often was McDonald’s or Bens Restaurant, later on for Benji and I it was usually Burger King.  After that we always stopped in at the Orangeville Mall where he would get his lottery tickets and sugary treats for the week.  And quite often on these Friday night adventures he always found some mother with a little one in tow and stop her to fuss over her baby or young one.  He was a very proud Grandpa, boasting over the 5 he had and their successes.  When Amberly was first born, she was a bit more work then Caleb ever was, and she would cry and cry for long periods of time.  There was one day where I was at my breaking point and my parents showed up at my door.  My Dad took screaming Amberly out of my weary arms and shushed her and rocked her, sending my mom and I out of the house.  When we got back, Amberly was sound asleep in his arms. 

Not only did he love children, he also loved animals.  Growing up on the farm, surrounded by cattle, horses, barn cats and dogs, I grew to have the same love.  Dad’s patience was displayed daily when it came to the animals.  As I became a young adult, I helped my dad indulge in a variety of animals.  There was the geese, Dandy and Daisy, our pigs, Bubbles and Cinderelly, our sheep Floyd and Phyllis and the turkeys, who the Tom followed us around as if he were one of us.  That is only naming a few!  Calving time was always an exciting time for us kids (at least I thought so).  I remember my Dad having to do middle of the night checks on the cows to see if any calves had come or were on the way.  One year when April came around, Benji and I thought it would be a perfect April Fools joke to wake him up before 6am and tell him that a cow was having twins.  He flew out of bed, throwing his pants on and running for his boots.  I don’t think we let him get as far as the barn before we let him in on the joke.  He didn’t find it funny, but as a parent now myself, the fact that we weren’t yelled at for getting him up that early for nothing, makes him golden!

My Dad was always so great at loving me.  As a child he would spin me around the kitchen, dancing to a tune he was making up on a whim, to holding my hand and kissing me goodnight, even watching movies with me, Anne of Green Gables and Sense and Sensiblility he liked in particular!  And as of most recent always parting ways with a kiss and the words “I love you”.  These are what I will struggle with most.  But the Lord as etched my Dad into my whole being.  I will always think of him every time I hear a cow bawl or the frogs sing in the summer air.  Everytime I smell freshly cut hay and the scent of horses.  Everytime I see work on a farmers field or a road lined with cars for an auction sale, I will think of my dad. 

I’m still convinced that I need my Dad, and my kids do too, and that life without him just doesn’t make any sense.  But I have hope and confidence that I will get to see him again, and lean in to hold him tight in heaven. 

I love you Daddy.