2 years....

Today marked the 2nd anniversary since my Dad's death. Over the last 2 years, I've come to realize that grief is a journey. Just like a physical wound, time does help healing, but a scar will still be left behind. I don't miss my Dad any less than I did 2 years ago, certainly not. But life, as it does, goes on for those left behind. At this point, it's important for me to keep the memory of my father alive both for me and my kids. Last year, we set off balloons to celebrate his life. This year, the kids each wrote (or drew) about a special time they had with Grandpa. With kids, you'd think their best memories would be about the big stuff they did with him. No, it wasn't like that at all. They remember the little stuff-when he pushed them on the swing, played with them, or just listened to them. Isn't that what life is all about anyway-the little stuff? The past two years have changed me tremendously-in some ways positively, and others I am not so happy with. In all honesty, they've made changes in all of us. I know that the Lord brings good from every situation, and even in the midst of grieving, I have seen it. I don't know how I could have made it through such a tough time without the Lord by my side. When I have needed someone to cry to, He has been there. The most special time of each day now is the time early in the morning when I spend with Him, pouring out my heart and feeling His love toward me. With each passing day, I'm able to think back more positively on the memory of my Dad. I have come to see just how much I was like him, which makes me appreciate him even more. Though it saddens me to think of the rest of my life without him, the time I did have with him here will be forever treasured in my heart. I love you, Dad.