Grief is weird.

Grief is weird.

It hits me when I least expect it.

The hurt has never diminished.  I think I’ve just learned how to deal with it a little better with each year. 

The truth is, I miss my Daddy a lot.  I miss him every day, some days just hurt more than others. 

I’m freaked out because this year will mark sixteen years…my age when he died. 

Strangely enough, I have dreaded this year since his death.  I remember the thoughts going through my head the day he died:  Who would walk me down the aisle?  And how in the world could I choose a replacement for that?  Would it be so weird when I was as old as he was when he died?  And, what would sixteen years feel like, when I had missed him for as long as I knew him? 

Grief is just weird.  Unpredictable.  Hard. 

The feelings are unexplainable…like I might forget him, or like I might run out of memories.  And truthfully, I know I can’t forget him; he made such an incredible impact on my life.  The passing of time can’t take that away. 

Unfortunately, that doesn’t stop my wandering mind.  I miss my Daddy.  I wish I could talk to him, ask for his advice, feel his embrace, see the twinkle in his blue eyes, and have the comfort that the world would be okay because my Daddy was there to make sure that was the case.  I wish I could argue with him, laugh with him, and just remind him how much I love him.

I know he knew how much I loved him.  I’ve never doubted that.  And, I am so thankful that he never missed the chance to let me know he loved me. 

I had an incredible Daddy, and I miss him with all of my heart. 

I’ve only found one place of true healing comfort, and that is in the Lord.  My peace and my comfort amidst the pain comes from knowing the Lord loves me even better than my Daddy did, and that promise carries me forward.

So for tonight, I will “trust the past to God’s mercy, the present to God’s love, and the future to God’s providence” (St. Augustine).