Over the past several days I and others have made comments like, "I want her back" and "If I had prayed hard enough maybe she would still be here" and "What did I miss...was she really sick?"
It is so easy for me to allow those comments and the thoughts that accompany them to roll around in my head. When I do it is really painful, and apparently no matter how much I try to hide it, the pain is evident to others...especially Zan.
The other evening, after dwelling in a host of "what ifs" and "if onlys", my amazing soul mate reminded me of the strong faith statements we made in the days immediately following Martha Anne's death.
I needed to be reminded of those truths. I know my Father loves me more than I can ever comprehend. I truly believe He orchestrated the events of her last days to make our grief more bearable. I believe His promise that to be in His presence makes years seem as days. I choose to believe that when I see her again, no matter how much time has passed for me it will have been as though only an instant has passed for her. And though I sometimes wonder why He did not intervene and save her physical being, I know He saved her soul. I prayed that prayer with her. I saw the transformation in her life...in her service to others. And as painful as it is for me to admit, I know she is in better hands now.
None of these truths ease my pain, but they do keep me from wallowing in despair. They keep the Destroyer at bay. They remind me I grieve with hope. No, they remind me I grieve with assurance...with the promise I will see her again.
I will miss you every day until then, baby girl. And I will love you forever...I promise!
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Bitter Sweet Christmas
Well it came and left and we are still here. Still here missing our Martha Anne. Still trying to adjust to life without her.
This Christmas was obviously different than any other I have ever experienced. A mixture of emotions that seemed to come and pass at will, with very little control on my part. At times I was joyful and very thankful for my family and most importantly for being a Christ follower. At other times I was overwhelmed by the reality that Martha Anne was missing from all of the fun and festivities.
The four day holiday began with a visit to the cemetery to see her grave marker, which had just been set up that very day. It was hard to stand there and witness the sight of your child's head stone. However, I am glad it is up. She deserves something permanent that will testify of her existence and that she belonged to parents, sisters, grandparents, and friends that loved her. We struggled with what to put on the marker. We wanted something that everyone who loved her could identify with. We settled on "Our Precious Girl" across the top. I think that will aptly represent all who knew and loved her.
So, from the cemetery on to North Georgia to spend the weekend with Zan's family. It was nice to see everyone. Nice to catch up. But always there, at various levels of consciousness was the awareness that M.A. was not with us. At times I even felt the panic a parent feels when they realize their child is missing from where they should be. Only this feeling was not followed by the relief of finding her in the next room, or in the front yard instead of the back yard. It just lingered until another distraction came along.
Sunday found us in Baxley with my family. Same feelings. Same turn of events. Presents were opened, food was eaten. There were even moments of laughter and dare I say fun. But still there was that ominous presence of the void left by her death.
Christmas eve we traveled back home. It was nice to be home, back among our most familiar surroundings. We followed our usual traditions. Supper, riding around town looking at Christmas lights, back home to open presents to each other. Everyone seemed pleased with the gifts they received. Emma presented me with a gift she picked out and paid for with her own money. She told me she bought it because she thought it was something Martha Anne would have bought for me. It was a Willow Tree carving of a father sitting with his long, brown haired daughter. I tried not to cry. I really did. My efforts were in vain.
Christmas morning was more of the same. I never tire of hearing the gasps of my children as they enter the living room to see the gifts "Santa" has left for them. I actually made it through the Santa gifts and even breakfast just fine. Then I remembered. A cold chill ran down my spine. I had forgotten. How could I forget? Rationalizing by blaming all that we have been going through seemed a weak and poor excuse. I forgot to write Christmas letters to my children. A couple of years ago, I made boxes for each of the girls with their initials stained on the top. I told them these boxes were to hold letters I would write them over the years of their lives. Letters for special events, letters to pass on fatherly advice, letters to just say how proud I am of them. I forgot. Totally forgot. I was distraught. The rest of the day just kind of passed by.
Now I am here feeling a bit conflicted. I do not enjoy the pain I am feeling. I did not enjoy the thoughts that entered my head this Christmas. At the same time I am thankful for these feelings. For I am not nearly ready to be "okay" with her not being here. So, I will push on past this bitter sweet Christmas to what I am sure will be many more bitter sweet moments. New Years, her birthday, the first swim in Mamart's pool, Mother's Day, Father's Day, etc., etc., etc.
This Christmas was obviously different than any other I have ever experienced. A mixture of emotions that seemed to come and pass at will, with very little control on my part. At times I was joyful and very thankful for my family and most importantly for being a Christ follower. At other times I was overwhelmed by the reality that Martha Anne was missing from all of the fun and festivities.
The four day holiday began with a visit to the cemetery to see her grave marker, which had just been set up that very day. It was hard to stand there and witness the sight of your child's head stone. However, I am glad it is up. She deserves something permanent that will testify of her existence and that she belonged to parents, sisters, grandparents, and friends that loved her. We struggled with what to put on the marker. We wanted something that everyone who loved her could identify with. We settled on "Our Precious Girl" across the top. I think that will aptly represent all who knew and loved her.
So, from the cemetery on to North Georgia to spend the weekend with Zan's family. It was nice to see everyone. Nice to catch up. But always there, at various levels of consciousness was the awareness that M.A. was not with us. At times I even felt the panic a parent feels when they realize their child is missing from where they should be. Only this feeling was not followed by the relief of finding her in the next room, or in the front yard instead of the back yard. It just lingered until another distraction came along.
Sunday found us in Baxley with my family. Same feelings. Same turn of events. Presents were opened, food was eaten. There were even moments of laughter and dare I say fun. But still there was that ominous presence of the void left by her death.
Christmas eve we traveled back home. It was nice to be home, back among our most familiar surroundings. We followed our usual traditions. Supper, riding around town looking at Christmas lights, back home to open presents to each other. Everyone seemed pleased with the gifts they received. Emma presented me with a gift she picked out and paid for with her own money. She told me she bought it because she thought it was something Martha Anne would have bought for me. It was a Willow Tree carving of a father sitting with his long, brown haired daughter. I tried not to cry. I really did. My efforts were in vain.
Christmas morning was more of the same. I never tire of hearing the gasps of my children as they enter the living room to see the gifts "Santa" has left for them. I actually made it through the Santa gifts and even breakfast just fine. Then I remembered. A cold chill ran down my spine. I had forgotten. How could I forget? Rationalizing by blaming all that we have been going through seemed a weak and poor excuse. I forgot to write Christmas letters to my children. A couple of years ago, I made boxes for each of the girls with their initials stained on the top. I told them these boxes were to hold letters I would write them over the years of their lives. Letters for special events, letters to pass on fatherly advice, letters to just say how proud I am of them. I forgot. Totally forgot. I was distraught. The rest of the day just kind of passed by.
Now I am here feeling a bit conflicted. I do not enjoy the pain I am feeling. I did not enjoy the thoughts that entered my head this Christmas. At the same time I am thankful for these feelings. For I am not nearly ready to be "okay" with her not being here. So, I will push on past this bitter sweet Christmas to what I am sure will be many more bitter sweet moments. New Years, her birthday, the first swim in Mamart's pool, Mother's Day, Father's Day, etc., etc., etc.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Ink for Martha Anne
This past Saturday I added to my body art. In addition to the three other tats I have, I had a memorial tat for Martha Anne done.
I have had the concept for the tat in my mind for some time now. Three Cali Lilies...three to stand for "I Love You" and her name beneath.
My brother hooked me up with his best bud Jason over in Baxley and he did an amazing job! I am so stoked! Major thanks to Bryan and Jason. You guys are too cool.
During the quiet moments...when I closed my eyes it was as if I could see Martha Anne smiling at me. Which was really cool, because I could not see how things were going. I had to wait an hour and a half before I could see the finished product. But seeing her smiling in my mind, I just had a peace. A peace about what I was doing and a peace about how it was turning out.
With that being said, let me say this. I am not one who believes our loved ones who have gone before us are watching us...looking down on us. I have met a lot of people who believe that, and I am in no way challenging what they believe. I just don't share their view. And that's cool. I think this is an issue we can all agree to disagree on. For me, I just can't believe that any good would come from her taking time away from the splendor of Heaven to watch me struggling with the loss of her.
However, I do believe that God would allow me have a peace about things relating to Martha Anne and my grieving process. I have seen her in dreams and heard her say things like, "I'm okay Daddy" and "I love you soooo much!" I don't really think she is visiting me in my dreams. I choose to believe that God is allowing me to be comforted by truths that were just as evident as when she was alive.
So, I think my new tat is cool, and is a beautiful tribute for my beautiful daughter. I think she would have thought so too.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Harder Not Easier
I thought as time went by this would get, at least a little easier. I know it has only been two months, four days, eight hours and forty-two minutes since she died, but I thought at least something would be easier by now. I was wrong. It's actually harder.
My fuse is getting shorter with everyone. I am having to make a conscious effort to control my tongue and my temper. Sometimes I am losing that battle. It hurts me to be like this. I am racked with guilt when I lose it with the girls or Zan. They are so kind and quick to forgive me, but I don't want to treat them like that.
And the worst part is in those moments of frustration and anger I am not even really sure who or what I am angry at. It is almost surreal. An almost out of body experience. I can see myself losing control. I can even hear my inner voice saying, "What are you doing?" "Get it together!" Sometimes I am able to listen and reign it back in...sometimes not so much. I know...I know, trust me, having a Master's with a concentration in Psychology, I know the whole "stages of grief" bit. But all of that just seems like "crap" right now! All I ever learned....even taught others for that matter was the existence of these stages...the symptoms and signs. Not how to cope. Not how to keep from hurting others in the process.
Zan keeps saying, "I don't want to do this anymore." And I so very much agree. But the reality is we have no choice in the matter. We have to push on...good days and bad. We have three other beautiful, wonderful girls that need us. I just hope I am not warping them in some irreparable way as I try to cope. Another part of me would die if I damaged the relationship I have with one of them. And quite frankly I cannot afford for another part of me to die. Just reserve my padded room and straight jacket if that were to happen.
So, what to do? "Cowboy Up" just doesn't seem to cover it. Hopefully this is just a phase and there will be some ray of light at the end of this tunnel. And if there is such a light I pray it will be a friendly one....not one attached to a big 'ole hulking train waiting to smash me into oblivion.
Dear God,
When will I stop crying so much? When will I think on her and smile and feel good, not just empty and lost? Will any of this ever change? Please help me through this. Please help my family, as I feel I cannot right now. Please help me not feel so weak, and like I am failing everybody.
New thought - who am I to think that I should be exempt from suffering...to not know pain. Silly boy.
My fuse is getting shorter with everyone. I am having to make a conscious effort to control my tongue and my temper. Sometimes I am losing that battle. It hurts me to be like this. I am racked with guilt when I lose it with the girls or Zan. They are so kind and quick to forgive me, but I don't want to treat them like that.
And the worst part is in those moments of frustration and anger I am not even really sure who or what I am angry at. It is almost surreal. An almost out of body experience. I can see myself losing control. I can even hear my inner voice saying, "What are you doing?" "Get it together!" Sometimes I am able to listen and reign it back in...sometimes not so much. I know...I know, trust me, having a Master's with a concentration in Psychology, I know the whole "stages of grief" bit. But all of that just seems like "crap" right now! All I ever learned....even taught others for that matter was the existence of these stages...the symptoms and signs. Not how to cope. Not how to keep from hurting others in the process.
Zan keeps saying, "I don't want to do this anymore." And I so very much agree. But the reality is we have no choice in the matter. We have to push on...good days and bad. We have three other beautiful, wonderful girls that need us. I just hope I am not warping them in some irreparable way as I try to cope. Another part of me would die if I damaged the relationship I have with one of them. And quite frankly I cannot afford for another part of me to die. Just reserve my padded room and straight jacket if that were to happen.
So, what to do? "Cowboy Up" just doesn't seem to cover it. Hopefully this is just a phase and there will be some ray of light at the end of this tunnel. And if there is such a light I pray it will be a friendly one....not one attached to a big 'ole hulking train waiting to smash me into oblivion.
Dear God,
When will I stop crying so much? When will I think on her and smile and feel good, not just empty and lost? Will any of this ever change? Please help me through this. Please help my family, as I feel I cannot right now. Please help me not feel so weak, and like I am failing everybody.
New thought - who am I to think that I should be exempt from suffering...to not know pain. Silly boy.
Saturday, December 8, 2007
Bike Riding & Memories
Today was nice. No...today was pretty awesome. It was a day that in my opinion was overdue.
Zan makes the best sausage balls in the whole world. Last night she pre-made a batch for breakfast today. They were incredible!
Then Emma, Corinne and I took off for town to get dad's car washed and the oil changed...met Zan and Lydia at Quizno's for lunch. Then Dad and the girls came home so mom could get some Christmas shopping done.
Back at home it was rest time outside in the yard on a blanket followed by bike riding around the neighborhood, watching "Santa Clause is Coming to Town", followed by a few more trips around the block.
Lydia ditched Emma and me on the last lap. Emma and I took our time around the block, talking about Martha Anne all the way. We talked about how much Martha Anne enjoyed our family bike rides. Emma also shared with me some of her conversations with Martha Anne on everything from dreading puberty, boys, to the Second Coming. I never even knew they talked about that. Apparently there was a light hearted conversation about how funny it might be if Jesus returned while a policeman was chasing a bad guy, and how confused the bad guy would be when the policeman just disappeared in the middle of the chase.
And perhaps the best part of my conversation with Emma today was that it was totally unsolicited. It just seemed a natural part of day. We actually smiled and laughed as we remembered her.
Thank you God for my family. Thank you for the security and hope we have through your Son, and thank you for loving us...even when we are unlovable.
Zan makes the best sausage balls in the whole world. Last night she pre-made a batch for breakfast today. They were incredible!
Then Emma, Corinne and I took off for town to get dad's car washed and the oil changed...met Zan and Lydia at Quizno's for lunch. Then Dad and the girls came home so mom could get some Christmas shopping done.
Back at home it was rest time outside in the yard on a blanket followed by bike riding around the neighborhood, watching "Santa Clause is Coming to Town", followed by a few more trips around the block.
Lydia ditched Emma and me on the last lap. Emma and I took our time around the block, talking about Martha Anne all the way. We talked about how much Martha Anne enjoyed our family bike rides. Emma also shared with me some of her conversations with Martha Anne on everything from dreading puberty, boys, to the Second Coming. I never even knew they talked about that. Apparently there was a light hearted conversation about how funny it might be if Jesus returned while a policeman was chasing a bad guy, and how confused the bad guy would be when the policeman just disappeared in the middle of the chase.
And perhaps the best part of my conversation with Emma today was that it was totally unsolicited. It just seemed a natural part of day. We actually smiled and laughed as we remembered her.
Thank you God for my family. Thank you for the security and hope we have through your Son, and thank you for loving us...even when we are unlovable.
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Argh!!!!
Today has been horrible!!! It seems that everything that could go wrong did.
I woke up at 2:30 am and could not go back to sleep until 4:30 am. The alarm went off at 5:30 am as usual. I hit the snooze button and went back to sleep. Up at 6:30, rush to get ready and on the road.
Late for work...drama there waiting for me...more drama and problems throughout the day. Thought about and missed Martha Anne ALL day!
Later leaving work than I planned...ill as a hornet! Trying to pull it together to put up the Christmas tree tonight.
Got the tree down out of the attic while Zan fixed supper. Fussed at the girls for being too loud and not listening.
Got the tree in the stand and off to the shower before supper. Thought about how hard this Christmas is going to be without Martha Anne. Cried. Thought about how I need to pull it together for the Zan and the girls.
Made it through supper unscathed and without hurting anybodies feelings.
Started working on decorating the tree...made Zan mad...got mad and yelled at everyone. Thought what am I doing???!!!!
I am not ready for Christmas. I feel like I am hanging on by a thread...or not. Maybe I am free falling and headed for a huge crash.
Going to bed now. Praying God and my family will forgive me. I never knew pain like this existed.
I woke up at 2:30 am and could not go back to sleep until 4:30 am. The alarm went off at 5:30 am as usual. I hit the snooze button and went back to sleep. Up at 6:30, rush to get ready and on the road.
Late for work...drama there waiting for me...more drama and problems throughout the day. Thought about and missed Martha Anne ALL day!
Later leaving work than I planned...ill as a hornet! Trying to pull it together to put up the Christmas tree tonight.
Got the tree down out of the attic while Zan fixed supper. Fussed at the girls for being too loud and not listening.
Got the tree in the stand and off to the shower before supper. Thought about how hard this Christmas is going to be without Martha Anne. Cried. Thought about how I need to pull it together for the Zan and the girls.
Made it through supper unscathed and without hurting anybodies feelings.
Started working on decorating the tree...made Zan mad...got mad and yelled at everyone. Thought what am I doing???!!!!
I am not ready for Christmas. I feel like I am hanging on by a thread...or not. Maybe I am free falling and headed for a huge crash.
Going to bed now. Praying God and my family will forgive me. I never knew pain like this existed.
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