It’s almost 2017, and . . . I dated something 1997 last week. Seriously? That is the year my youngest child was born. Oh well, it’s not the first time I’ve traveled back in time when writing, it won’t be the last.
I’d like to say it’s been a great year and I am looking forward to what this next year in life will hold, but right now, tonight, I don’t care. This past year kind of sucked, with a couple small exceptions, we welcomed new little lives into our family, miracles. I have a beautiful new niece, she was an unexpected and truly miraculous blessing. My sweet cousin welcomed a new daughter into the world as well.
You know what? This isn’t working.
I truly thought if I sat here and began to write, inspiration would strike and something worthy of being read would magically appear upon the screen. That is not happening.
My heart and my mind are far from me, many, many miles away in Alaska with my sisters and my father. I will never see him again. Even if he somehow woke up, it would only be for a short while, his journey is coming to an end. To be honest, I’m glad of it, for his sake.
I can handle death. I can accept it and even rejoice in it as a new beginning, the final chapter of a story that’s reached its end. It’s suffering I cannot bear. It’s waiting for the inevitable. He’s been sick and fighting for so long, for too long and while my heart will hurt when he spreads his wings, it won’t be hurting for him, just for those of us who will miss him when he’s no longer here.
There is a story to be told, the story of him, and of me, his ‘little shot’. One I will one day tell and when a I do, when I am ready, I hope it will be healing, in many ways. There are parts of that story I don’t remember, the beginning of it, and I pray those memories come back to me one day. There are missing pieces in the middle, but those aren’t as important as how the story ends.
2017, 1997 . . . at least I got two numbers right.
Maybe tomorrow I will write something inspired, something you might even want to read and be glad you did. Tonight though, this is it.
And, if you would, please whisper a prayer for my father’s peaceful passing and comfort for those preparing their hearts to say goodbye.