Grief

Grief is a funny thing. It is very unpredictable, choosing to come and go as it pleases. It leaves as quickly and unexpectedly as it arrives. Just when I think I have a handle on it, another curveball is thrown my way and I realize I know very little about this thing called grief.

It’s been a year and a half since daddy died and I’m still writing about it. I know I’ll never stop processing/writing as long as I’m alive, but I hope to someday be able to venture into other topics, processes, thoughts, etc. I have a lot to say about a lot of things, but in this season, I feel the greatest urgency to write when I’m processing about daddy. There has to be a reason for that. If nothing else, I hope my words and experience(s) can encourage and bring hope to someone.

Daddy tends to show up in my dreams every now and then. He was there last night. I don’t remember very many details about the dream, but I remember the feeling of enjoying his goofy presence again with sister. I woke up missing him, but thankful for that small reminder of how it feels to hug that teddy bear of a man. I went about my morning, but as I was sitting in the awful 360 traffic, the grief instantly and unexpectedly hit me like a tidal wave. Ironically, Hillsong United’s “Oceans (Where Feet May Fail)” was playing.

“I will call upon Your name and keep my eyes above the waves when oceans rise.”

As I was attempting to sing through the lump in my throat, I felt daddy. “Brief” would be an overstatement as it was literally less than a second, faster than a blink. He was singing with me. He was worshipping with me. Then he was gone; back to being a memory and a reunion I look forward to every single day of my life. I could feel myself wanting to sink back into mourning and sadness. I just miss him so much.

Then, the “Desert Song” started playing.

“All of my life, in every season, You are still God. I have a reason to sing; I have a reason to worship.”

The Holy Spirit is funny with his reminders. I had to make the decision to choose joy. I had to choose to be thankful over pity. How could I not be thankful? I had the unconditional love of a daddy that not everybody gets to experience, a daddy who would give up his own life for his daughters. Even in the midst of all the darkness his alcoholism brought, I never once doubted his love for me. Not many people can say that, let alone, children of alcoholics. Therefore, it would be unfair to daddy’s legacy to not choose joy. I have grace to grieve when it comes over me, but I have a responsibility to choose joy and to keep choosing joy time and time again.

Grief is a funny thing, but joy is who I am.