"Dying is easy. Living is the hard part."
It is so true. Life does become harder when you have to do it without someone you love.
Watching Daddy in his final days was not easy for any of us, but it was peaceful for him. Death is not something we have control over - goodness knows if we did, things would be different. Sometimes it comes quickly and catches you off guard. Other times, it comes in incredibly slowly and you might even wish you could hurry it along. And then there are the times that you aren't expecting it to be so close, but there it is and you have no other choice but to get prepared.
We were the latter.
We walked into that hospital five weeks ago hoping to get a therapy/treatment that would bring some relief to the pain and discomfort Daddy was feeling...we had no idea that he would get the ultimate relief and that we would leave there without him.
Living through that was hard.
When the doctor told us that this was the end, and we knew we had the weight of walking back into that hospital room and telling Daddy that he was dying, we sat on his bedside and held his hand and somehow through shaky voices and tear-filled eyes, we told him that his battle with such a horrendous disease was ending.
Living through that was hard.
In the ten days we spent by his side at the hospital, we did everything we possibly could to make him comfortable. We made heavy decisions about breathing apparatuses and medications and treatment options and were even told that we weren't going to be able to stay at the hospital but would need to look into moving him elsewhere. It gave me ulcers.
Living through that was hard.
When he took his final breath and we again found ourselves sitting on his bedside, holding his hand, and in a waterfall of tears, the pain felt utterly unbearable and the void was instant.
Living through that was hard.
And in the days that followed as we began life without him, it was harder still.
Sleeping was hard, eating was hard, and sometimes even breathing was hard. Sometimes it still is.
Preparing for a funeral and burial was hard. We truly wanted to honor him and celebrate the wonderful man he was.
Picking out what clothes he would wear (or I would wear for that matter) was hard.
And you might think this sounds weird but in some way, I was anxious for the evening of the funeral home visitation to begin...just so I could see him...because staying in our house without him was hard.
I missed him so very much. We all did. We all do.
And when I gave him the last kiss I would ever give him on his chilled forehead and stared over the shell that was his soul's home for 54 and a half years and said goodbye, it was almost unbearably hard.
*almost*
I understand now what others meant when talking about the passing of a loved one and saying, "It nearly killed me." Because that is how deep the pain hurts. And it does feel almost unbearable.
*almost*
But because of the love shown by so many family and friends and the countless prayers they have said on my and my family's behalf, and because of the love of my Savior and the grace and mercy he relentlessly bestows, that word *almost* exists.
And it changes everything.
The hard still exists...but it is bearable.
Living without my Daddy is hard, but it is happening.
And I know it's all possible because of Jesus. Because after all, He himself is love (1 John 4:8). And it's because of His love, that we love (1 John 4:19).
And that love is what motivates us to keep living through the hard.
Dying is easy, living is the hard part.
Coming back to Washington was hard.
Returning to work was hard.
Going to the grocery store was hard.
Not texting my Daddy during the Super Bowl was hard.
(Go Hawks!!! Sorry Daddy, under any other circumstance I would totally cheer for the Mannings, I swear.)
Dreaming about him and waking up only to have to grieve all over again is hard.
I know there is alot of hard ahead of me...a lifetime of hard. But I'm ready. And I'm not doing it alone.
love,
alissa
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