Surviving the “firsts”

The past year has been one of many “first”. First birthdays, first Thanksgiving, first Christmas, first New Year’s, first Father’s Day and many other first.  Wednesday, August 2, will be the “last first”. It will be the first anniversary of daddy’s death. And after that there will be no more first.  Everyone says that each first is hard. And that somehow after that first year things begin to get easier. It is so hard to believe that its been a year since I held his hand, kissed his head, whispered I love you, and heard his precious voice. And in other ways it feels like it was a million years ago. 

At times the pain is almost unbearable and yet I have learned a lot on this journey called grief.

 I have learned that everyone deals with grief differently. The things I feel are not necessarily the same things that my mom and sister feel. The things that bring pain to one of us may bring peace to the other and vice versa. And that is OK. Because it’s during those times that we are able to hold each other close and give strength to the one that is hurting and maybe somehow bring a little peace to them.

I have learned that there are others who understand what you’re going through because they too have walked this journey. And because of that a bond is formed. Words are not necessary. A touch or a hug screams volumes. A tearful eye lets you know they understand your pain.

But most of all, I have learned that it is OK to laugh and to be happy and to find joy in living. That is what my daddy would want.