You, my dears, have been through hell and back since your dad died, yet here you are managing to show up – for your jobs, for grief therapy that feels like building a new house without any nails, for life that does not stop for the brokenhearted. I know that most days that feels monumental. Because I love you I am going to tell you that you don’t have to do it all. You can say no and you can say it without explanation. You can say thank you but not today. Flashbacks are a beast so you are allowed to watch tv for hours and not pay attention to a word of it. You can forget and be foggy and be mad. You can read the same page over and over in the same book that’s been next to your bed for months and that’s okay, too. You are allowed to give yourself a break, because for you and me, Dad dies every morning.
We have been through trauma, and because of that every single thing we thought we knew for sure has been upended. It is hard, it is unfair, it is shocking, it is our life these days. It makes us question why this happened to someone so passionate and fun and full of life. Because if this is possible with someone like him….
Dad lived all his days with meaning but maybe now isn’t the time for us to figure out our own purpose in life. We have paid our dues in love and loss and have entered the Club of the Fragile. It isn’t for the faint of heart, as you are finding out when your throat tightens and your eyes brim with tears so often. Now you are able to look at others and instantly recognize the ones who know loss. In the unspoken moments, you see that their eyes mirror yours in sadness. But you know what? I can still see that you have managed to stay kind, especially to each other with such love and concern that it stuns me. You have been especially kind to me, in ways that surely make your dad proud. When you were just wee babes, we would talk about that. That our hope was that you would grow up to have a tank full of kindness and empathy. In the thick of this grief that seems harder by the day, maybe that is purpose enough. To wake up and give and receive and call it good.
You know what I have always said when things go south? This too shall pass. So comforting to me so many times, but this won’t pass, kiddos. It will settle into your bones, and years from now when you think you are just fine, it will roar back to life when you least expect it. It can scare the living daylights out of you but you will be okay. We will be okay.
I try to think like Dad a lot these days. I ask myself all the time what he would want for us. So far I have no answer, but I do know that he would probably go outside and take a deep breath of this icy February air and pay attention to the birds. He knew that even when the harsh winds blew them out of their nest time after time, they could still fly. You will too. I promise.
xo
Beautifully written. The truth and from the heart.
You and Mark raised 3 wonderful kids to be 3 fantastic adults who will
Live on to teach what you and Mark taught them.
The picture is perfect . ❤️ Judy
My, my, my. One has to wonder why one has been given a task so very hard. Know that it must be to make you stronger. Your words could not express your strength better. A beautifully written letter.
Beautiful Kath.
I read your posts over and over. You write with such passion and I can almost feel your pain. I haven’t had anyone leave me like you have experienced, but I did have who I thought was the love of my life, my forever, my one and only leave me in a blink of an eye. No warning, no adjustment period, just walked out and never looked back. It feels like grief, maybe a different kind of grief than you and your family are experiencing, but it hurts. It hurts hard, long and sometimes it feels like nothing will ever be right again. Thank you for posts and giving me hope.
Kathy, know that I love you like a sister. You and your young adult children have an extra hardship in front of you forever. Keep reaching out to us, your friends, for whatever you need: a walk, an ear, a meal, a drink, grandbaby sitting, a hug, a silent moment on a bench at the park. We won’t be confused if you say no over and over, because we know there will be a time when yes is what you need. There isn’t a time frame for this, and I think you captured that message beautifully with your words to your kids. I hope all of you can be healthy throughout. Strong is okay, but healthy is more work.