someone once told me that maybe i shouldn’t try to remember the ‘anniversaries’ because it could be more painful.
i don’t think i can really help myself.
this has certainly been the scariest, most exhilarating nine months of my life. scary because of all of the things i’ve had to go alone, exhilarating because it’s been an adventure.
sometimes not a good one, but still an adventure.
there are too many things to name that have freaked me out since he died. i feel responsible for my families safety. i feel almost aggressively protective of them. i’m afraid they’ll get hurt by people’s actions or words.
trusting God to keep his eye on them has been difficult, to say the least.
another part of my life that, if i focus on it too much, will give me a mild panic-attack- is the book i’m writing.
i’m almost finished with it.
i set this ridiculous goal of a certain amount of words, and i’m only 4,000 from meeting it. i’ll be typing the last sentence before i know it, and then what? there are hundreds of steps to take when it’s completed.
scares me so much.
i’ve gone and done it now. i’ve said for so many years that i would finish writing a book. and here it is, pounding on the front door. i can’t really try to hide from it, it’s too late at this point.
it has been nine months of tripping around a dark room, feeling for the light switch.
i counted on my Father for so much more than i realized while he was alive.
i remember the bits of advice that he would give me on men. i remember how he felt that no guy was good enough for any of his daughters.
well, Dad, i can’t seem to avoid any of them. they just show up. most of the time, un-invited.
when it comes to men- i am apparently blind, deaf, and stupid.
i attract (and am attracted to) the one’s wearing invisible sandwich-board signs that say, “i’m a jerk”.
and i’m learning to surrender. i’m learning, so… so… slowly, to let go of what i think i need. sometimes i’m gripping the ‘idea’ of something so tightly, that my knuckles are white.
God is prying my fingers loose.
i know that once i drop what i’m holding, my hands will be empty to receive what he has for me- which is what i really need.
these are the things i wish i could tell my Dad. i can see him, in my mind’s eye, nodding and saying, “good. that’s good. praise God.”
and always …always that little chuckle he would give when anyone said something positive to him.
you know it’s really beautiful to be alive.
if you stop for just fourteen seconds, or maybe even a whole fifteen- it’s the weirdest, most gorgeous thing that we are even breathing right now.
it has been a scary nine months.
on october 21, 2011- i think i imaged that i’d been shipwrecked, and i thought i would never get off the island. i was stuck. i was alone.
but it turns out i was never stuck, nor have i ever been alone.
it appears that i’ve pushed away from the shore.
thank you for reading. have a beautiful weekend. if you need me, i’m on twitter- more often than what is normal.