Lindsay Unplugged: Mourning the Loss of My Dad
Today marks one month since my dad passed away, and it may as well have been yesterday. Why is that? I pushed pause on life—I wanted to push stop, and someone came along and pressed play without telling me. I’m not ready, and everyone else is.
At the funeral, I was sure we would all be in a terrible funk for weeks, months and even generations. We would wear black & white. Businesses would close and the Super Bowl would be cancelled. But that’s not the way it happened. Days—not weeks, not months, not generations—days after I lost my dad, the status quo returned. Did the status quo not see how many flower arrangements were at the funeral? How I've needed to do at least 5 speeches for all the services and tributes that people wanted to do for him? The world lost a great man. What was the rush of picking up where we left off? I wish I could mourn faster. I wish I approached loss at 1000 miles per hour. I wish I didn’t judge others who do.
How excellent it must feel to blaze through the stages of grief at record-breaking speed: denial, anger, bargaining and then acceptance—one after the other. Bam, bam, bam. Surely I can do this, right? Me, Lindsay Coil, used to a fast-paced life, confident, passionate, always in the lead & in control, always thinking of solutions to problems, always someone who has answers (or will make sure gets answers) for urgencies & emergencies, always on top of things, very determined to make things work.. But no, this time was different. Instead of record-breaking recovery, I keep inching forward. Taking it one day at a time.
Some days, I feel like slow and steady is the proper way to grieve. Other times, I’m desperate for a quick fix. Some nights, I would just cry... and cry some more with my heart hurting like crazy. In reality, I know that grief is as personal and unique as the individual who is grieving; there is no right way to get over the loss of someone you love. Still, it would feel nice not to be going through it alone.
I have all these amazing memories with my dad that keep me laughing and crying at times. I know that I will never forget. I will always keep my daddy close to my heart like I do my mom. I long for others to tell me they do the same, that they still think of him and that these thoughts are uplifting, empowering, and joyful. I long to embrace healing.
My family and friends who I have shared about my pain and my process remind me that I am not alone. Everyday I tell my dad that I love and miss him as I go through the book of memories that my lovely mother-in-law made for me. Everyday I am reminded that I have a husband who loves me and is always there for me. I have a few beautiful friends who have also lost both parents who truly feel and understand what I am going through. With this, I am reminded that I have a community of people who give me strength when I don't.
Then I have a loving Father in heaven who has comforted me in so many ways and gave me strength in moments that I am weak. So I know my time of healing is coming. But I am not in a hurry. I am moving on at a different pace, taking it one day at a time.
"Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted." Matthew 5:4
Link to the announcement - Wilfredo Bancairen
posted by Matt and Lindsay @ 5:33 PM
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