In Honor of Daddy

Day 1, Part 2: Just….. STOP!

Today I put my foot down. I begged my landlords to stay here in the home until the end of October. “I don’t know when my resources from hubby will come in” I cried, “but… this is home and has been for several years. I’m not ready to let go”. They assured me that they understood and would never kick us out. For that, I’m grateful.

Now I have 42 days to figure out what the hell to do.

But grief is weird. My daughter and I take turns crying, talking to Daddy aloud and feeling him with us, and crying some more. We’re just…. shattered.

Today my daughter spun around and said: “Daddy had a message for me”. I froze. “He said: only my physical form died. I am not dead. I’m right here with you”.

We both began weeping. It was everything we needed to hear.

I’ll be honest, I always believed in God. I loved studying various religions over most of my life and have gone to church, temple, and even dabbled in Paganism once upon a time. And yet, after all these years at almost 38 years old, I was unsure if there is a heaven. I was *hoping* and praying that there is a heaven. I was praying that there is a soul or spirit inside our body that ascends to heaven or “The Other Side”, whatever you want to call it…. to watch over us.

But I wasn’t sure until I lost Daddy. Then, I felt him. I literally felt him with me. I felt his hand upon my heart as I had a panic attack the other night. It felt like…. warm, comforting light. It was so isolated in that one spot and slowly my breathing resumed to normal. My daughter heard Daddy in her heart and mind and I know without a shadow of a doubt he is with her too. So, yes, there is a heaven and the Other Side. There is a spiritual realm where our loved ones pass on to and where they can watch over us. And for that, I am grateful.

Daddy and I were married for 8 years, 8 months, and 19 days. But, and I know he would agree, we are still married. Always married.

I think when you marry and go through life with your true soulmate…. when they pass, a part of you stops living too. Yes, I will carry on and take care of our daughter. Yes, I will put one foot in front of the other and figure out where we should move to, how the hell to plan a memorial service, and sign a mountain of paperwork. But I would be lying if I said that I will ever, truly, fully heal. I know I won’t. Half of my life is almost over anyway (assuming I live to be 80+). I’ve made peace with this too.

Losing the love of your life changes your perspective. You enter a pattern of waiting. Waiting to be reunited with your love once more. Waiting for God to call me home so that I can kiss my Daddy with everything I am.

In the meantime, I will continue to shower our daughter with endless love and kisses as she struggles to process losing her Dad. I will nurture, guide, and show her that even a homeschooling stay-at-home mom with little resources can…. get a job, earn a tiny bit of money, make a life for us two, and carry on in the face of pure heartbreak and unfathomable tragedy.

My life feels like it is rushing by with the endless questions that get thrown at me each and every day. It feels like an eternity since Daddy and I have been together, and it has only been 72 hours. But for us, that IS an eternity. We are just that couple that are best friends and did everything together. We loved each others company immensely, which makes his physical passing that much harder.

So I shout….. STOP! Stop world! Slow the F down! I need time to grieve. Time to scream. Time to not be “okay” or worry about money right now. I need time to just BREATHE!

Until next time.