(By the way, it cracks me up that if I slack a bit in posting so many of you email/call/text me to see if I'm okay. Thanks for checking on me you guys!)
I'm really okay. It's just been a weird week for me.
It's been a little over two months since my dad died. Autumn has been a season of restoration for me--physically, spiritually, and emotionally--but it has also been a hard season.
I've been thinking a lot about what I was doing this time last year. I was getting ready to go to Arkansas for a football weekend with my dad's side of my family. That was the last time I remember my dad being healthy. Just six days after I got home from that weekend, my dad called me from the hospital in Fayetteville, where he was experiencing symptoms that led to his pancreatic cancer diagnosis. He lived 9 months and one day after that phone call.
My dad would have been sixty-four this past Monday. A couple of days before his birthday I found his baby book in some stuff I was sorting through. I am thrilled to have such an amazing keepsake, but it's hard to look through it because for me it represents something so final. The book chronicles the beginning days of his life, and yet I was there for so many of his last ones. Lots of conflicting thoughts and emotions.
One of my dear friends is journeying through cancer with her dad right now. Their family has had a rough week and so many of her updates have left me with a familiar heaviness of heart. I know that there are no magic words to lessen her pain. I also know that sometimes the path she's walking will get narrow and she'll have to walk it alone. Other times that same path will widen so that friends (like me) can come and walk alongside her. Both the narrow and the wide are necessary. My heart has been very, very heavy for her this week because I understand a lot of what she's feeling. And it makes me sad all over again.
I really am okay. Just giving myself some space (and grace) to be quiet, to hurt, to think, to pray, and to just be.