Lost

I am not even sure how or when or why or where to start. But I figure it's about time to make this happen. You see, I'm lost. Like 6 year old Girl Scout in the middle of the woods and some meanie knocked over your trail signs and a bear stole your compass and you are in a time before Siri and GPS lost. That man up there? That's my Daddy. Yesterday was the 2 month anniversary of his passing. It's taken that long for me to wrap my head around it and to be honest, I still am not getting it. There is just a lot I don't understand, and frankly I don't have to. It's getting to a point though, that it's hurting more than it's not-- and it's time to let it all out. I promise you you will cry through this one, so you better just stop while you're ahead if you aren't wanting to ruin your mascara today.

This was taken just weeks before it happened. Weeks. This little boy helped his Pawpaw pack for a cruise to Canada. We laughed so hard because he was telling him, "Pack me Pawpaw, too!" Why did I not take more pictures? I have a phone full of stupid pictures of things I see at the store, or stupid cars in a parking lot.... why do I not have more pictures of my Daddy? Why can't I find a video of my Daddy and my son? He's 2.... 2. I don't remember anything from being 2. My heartbreak? Knowing that even though there are pictures, he isn't going to remember his Pawpaw. We can hope, but I do real...

I get home from a training, knowing Daddy has had a routine endoscopy, and I don't call to check on how he is doing. I know he's had a rough time in recovery, but since my baby sister has kept me updated... I don't call. Why didn't I call? Why didn't I just call, even for a minute to tell him I loved him and to hear his voice? I had the time on my lunch... I had the time on my breaks... I even had the time on the way to my training to call before his procedure... That night, I just remember talking to a friend of mine and it was WAY past Jaxon's bedtime, and he hadn't had a bath. Jason was delivering a rack to a coach a ways away and had just walked in the door. It wasn't minutes later, and my nightmares began... my mom calls... Why is she calling me at 10 at night? All she says is, "Your Dad is in cardiac arrest, the emts are here and it looks bad. I think we've lost him." I freeze. "Oh God..." I say, not really registering. "I'm coming." is all I could get out. What do you say, what do you do when you know your Dad could be dead when you get there?

After sleeping in an ICU waiting room for days, and getting the news we were not looking forward to, we decided we had to do what we had to do.

This is the last day we had together, and I spent it just like this. Sitting by him and holding his hand. Just praying and praying that everything was not as the doctor's said and that any moment he was going to open his eyes and look at me. We listened to his favorite songs, and many of them held so many memories, whether they were audio torture as a child on a road trip-- or what he blared and shook the walls with to wake us up for church on Sundays. This picture is just surreal. How do you just sit next to your Dad knowing you are going to have to end his life the next day? How? This isn't just like putting a beloved pet to sleep. It's oh-so-much worse. You don't want to go to the bathroom, you don't want to eat, you don't want to leave, because you know... every minute, every second, every moment is numbered, and when it's gone-- that's it. It's gone. I won't get that day back. I won't have any more days after that. That's it.

I'll spare you the agonizing details of the day, but for 6 hours-- 6. I sat just the same and watched my Daddy take his last breaths. It still haunts me. It's that feeling that you don't want to be there, and watching it is the worst thing you have even endured, but you know you have to stay? 

If there was a day to rob people blind, it would have been the day of his funeral. This is what 100+ police cars look like. All to see Dad. Not just his department, but everyone you can think of. He was later escorted by almost 50 of them to North East Texas where he was buried. All 50 of them were volunteers. Who do you know would drive a hearse escort for 4 hours because you wanted to? My Dad was something special to so many people. I stood on a stage before so many at that church to deliver the hardest speech I have ever had to. I will say, asking God for the grace and the courage to do so, showed up at the right time. I did it without a tear, without a quaver, and did it just as gracefully as if I was delivering a professional development meeting on a Monday. I knew the day would come when I would have to do that, but I didn't think it was going to be when I was 30. 

A peaceful moment and the hardest time came the day we had to say goodbye for the last time. This picture is me having morning coffee on the lake Daddy grew up fishing in with his grandparents, and the lake he loved so much. It's picture perfect. There is nothing like it.

So this is move in day. I know I took this picture, solely on the basis that I knew I would be writing sometime about it. I just can't even wrap my head around it. How did that happen? It just doesn't even make sense in my head. This is the same place my sweet Nanny is sleeping. Those flowers in the background is Daddy. They're back door neighbors. Knowing that he is with his Momma brings a little peace to my heart. We all crumbled the day she left. I was there with her too. I know I have much to look forward to, and in time that will come. But I just have to make sense of a few things....




 Like this little guy. Explaining why Pawpaw's police car isn't there anymore is ripping me in two every time I pull into my parent's driveway... (Why do I still call it my parent's house? Now it's "My Mom's" house. Can I still call it my Parent's house? Politically correct can bite my ass.) The last day before they had to pick it up, we played with the lights one more time...

 

I just want him to remember everything.

Do I need therapy? Probably. Do I need a glass of wine? Hell yeah. Do I need my Daddy back? That is  the million dollar question. Bazillion dollar question. You just don't realize how lost you are, until you are. I talk to him on the way to work, I talk to him before I go to bed... I listen, just so I think about what he might say. But in the end, he still isn't here... and I just have to find a way to piece myself together and truck on.


Because after all, my birthday is in 10 days. I know he's going to be ready to party with me, smiling down... just like it was last year.

I may be turning a year older, but it's definitely a year wiser. A year lonelier, and a year I am just chalking off to count down when I get to see him again. Lord knows he is keeping everyone in heaven laughing, and I am missing out.







Poo poo I say,  poo poo. Love you Daddy. More than you know, but hoping you heard. You taught me to be the person I am today, and for that I am proud. I just want to live each day to that. Making you proud. Because at the end of the day, I know you would want me to do what I could to take care of my family and others, and help people... and have a little fun in the process.