Sunday, November 11, 2012

13 And 3

Thirteen weeks today.  Three months tomorrow.  Will it ever get easier?  I fear the answer is No.

I talk to you all the time.  Can you hear me?  The way I hear you.  My heart aches for you - for what was - for what will never be.  Can you feel me?  The way I feel you.

I still find myself having to resist the urge to pick up the phone and call you.  I sometimes forget you are gone.  In those moments I am happy.  Oh how I cherish those moments - before I remember. As the horrible truth comes crashing down around me.  Like a cruel avalanche of reality.

This past week I have again reread our letters.  I'm certain I have them nearly memorized now.  I can hear your voice in your words.  I can hear your humour.  And I even find myself giggling from time to time.  How I miss our talks.  Our time.  Especially when nobody else was around.  I think that is when we connected the most.  That is when our most memorable and meaningful conversations and connections were made.  Moments that will live in my heart forever.

Life goes on; they say.  I wonder what you would think of everything that has happened since you left.  I fantasize how different everything would be were you still here.  I sill have so many questions.  About you - about myself ... about family ... my family.  Then it occurs to me that I will never find the answers to my questions as you took them with you when you left.

Some will say that I didn't become your daughter until I found you.  The truth is that I was your daughter, as you said; before I was ever born. Before my eyes beheld the first light.  I have been a Crisp for 44 years.  And ever so proud to be.  In your name and your likeness ... from eyes, to heart, to feet ... and everything in between,, ever so proud to be your daughter.

I often wonder if my likeness to you, that which brings me peace, may be haunting to others.  But I do know that God does not make mistakes - and He does everything with intent.

My heart betrays me as I struggle to convey my feelings into words - my eyes burn with tears.  This is nothing new.  My heart and soul have cried an ocean for you.  My only peace comes from knowing that one day we will be reunited.  And nobody will be able to separate us again.  In God's Kingdom everything will be as it was always meant to be.

I think about timing.  How after you became ill, you stayed for a complete cycle of 1's.  1 of each holiday.  1 of each birthday.  And now we are in the midst of 1's without you.  Holidays pass us .... and they are not quite the same.  My heart thinks of my beautiful niece Clio, who's birthday is this week.  Her personal 1st.  A birthday without her Papa.  How I wish I could see her ... hug her ... wish her a Happy Birthday.  I know that her mother will try to make it a special day for her ... but again ... it will not be quite the same - without you.

Births and Deaths are interesting.  The beginning and the end.  And we count them to the minute.  When I was a new mother - I could tell you the age of my baby to the day for the first year.  Funny how we do that. "How old is your baby?" ... "27 weeks and 3 days!"  a mother will reply.   It is only after the first year when we begin to count by months ... and then years.  The same can be said now - when anyone asks when my dad passed ... I say "13 weeks ago today".  I have a running clock in my heart.  One that requires not batteries, and is not affected by Daylight Savings Time.  The clock is eternal ... it measure our lives ... it measures our losses ... it measures the period, until which our divine appointment will be.  When our eyes will again meet in the presence of our Lord.  

I miss you dad.  So much that it hurts.

Loving you always and forever...