Wednesday, December 10, 2014

Bringing new life into a broken world

I anticipated that some part of the birthing/newborn process was going to be emotionally hard for me, I just didn't know when it would hit. The last time I had a baby, my father was still alive. The last time I talked to him was on the phone at the hospital. The moment I woke up from my first night being at home with my newborn, everything changed. 

This is where I am now. The first night home with my newborn. And this is where I am facing grief head on. This is a whole new "first" for me. The first time I have brought life into world where my father doesn't exist. And I hate it. 

I hate living in a world where he doesn't exist. 

I tried to think of a different word to use besides hate, but I believe it's appropriate. Death is something to be hated. Brokenness is something to be hated. And I am more aware of that brokenness when I hold my newborn daughter and mourn the absence of my father in her life. 

It's all very surreal and weird. Even after three years, it's still hard to believe he's not here. In my mind, memories and dreams, he's very much alive and active. Because I knew him so well, I can picture exactly what he would do, what he would say, and how he would interact with our kids. I can see him now with my son, giving him music lessons or sitting at a table intricately building Legos together. I can see him with with my daughter (I guess I'm gonna have to start specifying which one) sneakily eating some kind of treat because she would have him wrapped around her finger. I see him with my nephew, laying on the floor playing with his trains. I see him with my niece, holding her and making embarrassingly goofy faces just to make her laugh. Because I can imagine these things, it makes the loss that more difficult. He would have been the best grandfather.  

It sucks and I hate it. I wish I could just sit here and stare at by daughters beauty without all these thoughts in the front of my mind. Without anticipating the next terrible thing to happen. I am so acutely aware of how fragile life is and how quickly everything can change, that I feel like I'm just waiting for the next bad news to happen. This is not where I want to be.  I want to be hopeful for the future and have joyful anticipation of what's to come instead of fear. 

My prayers these days seem to echo the words of my favorite Christmas hymns

"Come thou long expected Jesus
Born to set thy people free
From our fears and sins release us
Let us find our rest in thee."

"O come thou dayspring come and cheer
Our spirits by thine advent here
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night
And death's dark shadows put to flight"


Praying for a more hope-filled tomorrow. 


*DISCLAIMER: I am sleep deprived so if anything doesn't make sense, I apologize, just go with it.