Man I suck at blogging.
What a hard year this has been. I feel like I've been continuously kicked in the stomach since November 2011.
Ever met a man who would do anything for you? The shirt off his back? His last dime? Complete bathroom remodel when you simply asked to borrow his wall paper remover steamer?
Quiet but talkative? Simple but extraordinary? Loving but stern? ... I knew a man like that and I was lucky to have him in my life for a little over 5 years. It wasn't near long enough and I still can't make sense of it all.
Grief is definitely a process. For the most part I was in denial. I'm a nurse. I read the statistics. I heard Stage 4, but I could not allow myself to believe that we would lose him. I mean, we needed him. Who would we call and talk to about mortgages, job changes, credit card debt, home repairs, kid raising, marriage mending? He knew a lot about everything and he was always willing to share what he'd learned over the years. Always willing to help us, to help anyone.
I prayed a lot this past year. Sometimes I'd pray everyday all day long. It would always be the same prayer. I would ask God to heal him, to take the cancer away, to allow us good news with the most recent CT scan.
My relationship with God took a hit. When my prayers would go unanswered I asked the selfish questions. Why God? Why him? Why now? It's taken me until now to realize that none of this will ever make sense. This situation will never be fair. All we can do is continue to pray for strength. Not answers. The only answer is that everyone who met him was touched by him and I am a far better person because I knew him.
I miss him. Some days I can't even say his name without tearing up. Claire misses him. She looks for reassurance that Pawpaw can see her. "Will he see me at my play momma?" "Can he hear me? I love you Pawpaw." (as she looks up at the sky)
Everyday since he's been gone is a struggle.
I know he would not want us to be sad. I know he would want us to love each other and live the life he would have continued to live if given the chance.
I believe that was the hardest part for him. Not the sickness, the pain, the swelling, the nausea and vomiting, the weakness, or the unknown. The hardest part was the thought that he wouldn't be able to see his kids and grand kids continue to grow and that we would all be heartbroken when he was gone, which we all are.
Our son, William- Mark Miles Hardee, was born 2 days after my father in law died. His sweet little face is the shining light during this dark time. God knew that we needed Miles. God knew that if it were time to call my father in law home we would need Miles to help us through.
Miles is a treasure just like his sisters. He reminds me of his Pawpaw. He's pleasant. Quiet and curious. He's taught me a lot about parenting in these past 2 months. One very important lesson learned is to change that diaper quick. My love just keeps on growing for this little guy and his sisters.
Losing my father in law makes me want to be a better person. I want to be someone he would be proud of. I want to cherish every precious, fleeting moment with my family. Especially when life gets crazy, when things aren't easy and everyday seems to have a huge rain cloud hanging overhead. So I'm working on that. Being positive, counting my blessings, and trying to be a little bit better of a person than I was the day before.
I've got a lot of work to do.
