I said I would fill you in on today. And what a good day it was.
I laid in bed during the middle of the night emotional, not being able to sleep. Dad was on my mind. I looked at the clock and it was 5:30 am. So I took the dogs out, got dressed and decided to just leave the house. I drove around for a little while, and then went to the golf course down the street from my house, parked my car, put on some music, and watched the sunrise. It's a spiritual moment to watch the earth wake up.
I went to the best bagel place in town and got my favorite potato bagel with plain cream cheese and large Diet Coke and went home to eat breakfast outside with my puppies.
I was finally tired, so I got back into mom's huge bed and put on one of my favorite movies. She's Out of My League is highly inappropriate, but I don't even care. I've seen it probably a hundred times and I still laugh out loud.
Thankfully, I fell right to sleep and slept for a while. I needed it. When I woke up, mom and I got ready to go to the beach to let balloons go with letters written on them to dad. This tradition started after Papa died and we've been doing it ever since. We hurried to the store and got balloons and sharpies, while the sun quickly went down. We got to the beach right as the sun had set. Mom and I have a habit of wanting everything to be this Norman Rockwell painting of perfection, especially moments like this. But that's not what's important. It doesn't need to be perfect. We were disappointed, but decided to make the best of it. We walked down to the rocks, and started writing on the balloons. The tide was the highest we've seen it in a long time. Sitting on the rock, feet in the water, sand in between our toes was heaven. The beach is our happy place.
We wrote notes on our balloons and got them ready to be let go.
We stared at the balloons for a moment, got tears in our eyes, and then I ran down to the rocks to let them go. I kissed them, raised my arm, and let them go. The wind took them so fast, we ran to the top of the sand to watch them go. As they got higher and higher, the moment hit us. I ran to mom who was crying and she held me tight in her arms as we cried together. It was a sad cry, a lonely cry but also a good cry.
Mom sat on the rocks while I climbed down to the water. I was like a little kid. Running into the water splashing around. Then running to the shore as the waves chased me. I looked for rocks and found a big stick from a tree trunk. I found a perfect spot and wrote another note for dad to see.
I watched the water for a little bit, listened to the rhythm of the waves. It calmed us, gave us perspective being in the midst of God's creation, reminding us of the bigger picture. We walked back to the car hand in hand. We decided to end the night on the perfect note and gorge our way through cheeseburgers, fries, diet cokes and chocolate shakes at In and Out. Is there any other way?
Finally all the firsts are over. No more first holiday without daddy. No more waiting for the year mark. We've gone through this hell together and have come out on the other end. The sadness doesn't stop just because time is continuing on. But it becomes less frequent. Grief is like taking a walk on the beach. You keep walking and then a wave rolls up and hits you. But the wave doesn't stay. It comes and goes. But you keep walking. It's all we can do. And look forward to the day where we're all together again. Thankfully, I can still feel my dad. I can see his smile, hear his voice and see his face. And I'll hold onto those things forever.
