I’ve started this post a million times. But then I get a knot stuck in my throat and a pain in my gut and I can’t continue. I know it will be good for me to pour this out. I know I’ll feel better just having publicly acknowledged this…but, it’s a very scary thing.
I turned 32 in January this year. It doesn’t seem like such a scary age except my father died when he was 32. 32! He had a heart condition – was required to have annual check-ups – but this was undetectable. His appointment had been just a few weeks before his death. No matter. He had a heart attack. In the blink of an eye, he was gone.
I was four.
It didn’t make sense then and it doesn’t make sense now.
My heart is already racing just having put all this down on paper.
My birthday was hard this year. I usually look forward to it, and although it was a perfectly wonderful day, I was torn up inside. Even my mother acknowledged it. She sees it, feels it. It’s a sense of dread that I can’t shake, no matter how hard I try.
I’m 32. I’m 32. I have so much more to do, to see, to learn.
I’m not sick. I don’t have a heart condition. I’m fine. I’m healthy. I have a beautiful little boy and a wonderful, loving husband. But my heart still aches…for me, for him, for my mother. I look at my life and can’t imagine it ending today.
February was the worst because the Bug was 14 months old. My sister was 14 months old when my father died. My heart tore and cracked just thinking about my son growing up without me. What stories would people share? Would he know how much I loved him? He needs me. I need him more.
I can’t let this go. Not yet. Not this year.
With Father’s Day today, I’m feeling it even more. I just hung up from a lovely conversation with my grandmother and after talking with her, I’m consumed with thoughts of him. I wanted today to be a fun day for my husband, to celebrate love and family, but no matter how much fun it has been (and it was!), it is still a day that ends with heartache because my father isn’t here.
I want this year to be over. As much as I want to cling to every bit of my son’s development, I want to flash forward through time so that I am 33. It’ll be over then. It’ll be better then.
He’ll still be gone.
I’ll still miss him and grieve my loss. I’ll still cling to the stories that family members share so that I know him just a little bit. I’ll still wish that I could talk with him and hear him whisper in my ear his pearls of wisdom.
I’ll still love him.
But I’ll be 33 and somehow, I know that I will feel better. My heart will have healed just a little. I’ll be a little less scared.
I think.
I hope.
Very sweet and sad. I'm so glad you went through the painful process of sharing this – it's very touching.
Ultimately, age is just a number, and your story is your own. But the fear you have is real, and it's okay.
I'm so glad that you finally posted this! Touching to me in more ways than you know!!
Just beautiful Erin. Thank you for sharing this with us.
Much love to you.
What a great post. We will have a big celebration on January 4, 2011. I love you!!
Oh wow. It took a lot of courage to write this. I hope that it helps some to write it down. Much love.
-Abby
Thanks for sharing Erin. I hope writing this helped you.
Oh lady.
This makes me ache for you and your family.
I'm glad you shared this.
I understand this. My dad died very young too, same way…sudden heart attack. And then my uncle, three years later, same thing. So I listen to the risk factors and I can't help but be extra extra careful. I think about mortality a lot more than most people. It gives me a heavy heart to think of my husband raising my boys without me. But I'm not scared. I believe in a sovereign God and it gives me great comfort that whatever happens, there is a greater purpose. I understand your anxiety, and I will pray for you.
I'm so sorry. I was 22 and my youngest sister was 12 when our father died. He was older, and had lived a pretty full life.
But. Your story is so tough. I can't imagine having been a toddler, or having had a parent only live to 30something.
*HUGS*
Oh E, I'm so sorry. I hope in time you can heal and live the life you want to live. What you wrote took a lot of courage. May it help to ease the knots of life. Hugs!
Oh I'm so sorry. I can't imagine how hard this was for you to write. Thanks for sharing. HUGS
Wow. Very touching post. It is so hard to think of our own mortality…. especially when our kids are so small. I am sorry for your losses. Both of your father and your innocence. I was thirteen when my father passed away. My hubby was the same age when we married as my father was when my parents married; same age when our children were born as my father was when my brother and I were born. Somehow I feel like I will end up a widow when the kids are still young. Why do we have to worry so much about history repeating itself? I wish you many, many happy and healthy years ahead.
Oh, Erin. I have tears in my eyes. I can only imagine how difficult this was to write. And how difficult it *is*.
I wish I could give you a big ol' hug. XOXO
Wow Erin, I can't imagine going through this. What a powerful post.