HeartWalk!

Today was the 2009 Heart Walk, put on by the American Heart Association, in Indiana. I participated in the event in memory of my dad. I was pleasantly surprised by the crowd that showed up. It was a 5k at the local hospital. Five laps around the parking area and that was that. I walked for three laps and ran for two. Patrick and Benjamin walked two laps with me. I would have happily ran the whole thing, but no one else was running and since I have very little leadership confidence I walked :)

Thank you so much to those who supported the AHA, through me, for this event! It won't go unnoticed - so many families and individuals will be forever grateful for the support of the AHA!

Here I am crossing the finish "line". Once you crossed they handed you a bag and told you to get free goodies. So I left with a lot of pens and entered a lot of random drawings :)



I wore this large sticker on my back. I wrote in my dad's name and birth/death date. I was glad to see others wearing these too in memory of their family members!
As a side note, I think I would like to help plan next years event. It was very unorganized and there was very little information prior to arrival. I think it could have been much better planned and played out. I'm just saying...

Pleasant dreams...

After my dad died, I only had one dream about him. I was so scared of seeing him in my dreams that I would pray every night that it wouldn't happen. Maybe because it was such a shock? Because I was still dealing with so much emotionally? Because I was truly scared of seeing him? I don't know.

My sister would tell me that she would have dreams about him all the time. Dreams where it was nearly real and she was having full conversations with our dead father. That's what caused me to pray for an undisturbed sleep. There was so much going on in my heart, my mind, that I just didn't want to deal with it.

So here I am now, two years and three months later, not scared of these dreams anymore. I've been healing. I've talked with a counselor. I've been working through things and coming to terms with stuff I didn't understand before August 19, 2006. And I've been having dreams about my dad.

I'm not sure why it's started up all the sudden. It could be because I'm not afraid anymore, but I'll never know. My dreams are never scary and I never wake up worried or upset. In fact, my dreams are somewhat funny, random and always pleasant.

There is a pattern to my dreams. I see my dad, we are talking and hanging out (the last dream he lived in the big house with a small kitchen and I was making him dinner). We are laughing, sharing life and having fun. However, there's always an abrupt end to our time together. The last dream (while I was making him dinner) the police came and arrested him for something weird like walking the wrong way or a parking ticket. I talked with him later in the dream and he said he was fine and would be coming back soon for dinner.

Maybe that's odd to you, but it makes perfect sense to me. Although the dreams change in scenery and scape, the plot is always the same. So was my relationship with my dad (in the last few years of his life). We would talk and share things, we would make jokes and ask questions. The conversation or time together was (usually) pleasant. My relationship with him was pleasant, but ended abruptly with his death. Now, I relive that in my dreams in a variety of ways.

My dad and I didn't talk very often. He was busy, I'm sure, and didn't return too many of my messages (sometimes I think he forgot how to check his phone messages ::grin:: ). We didn't see each other often since I lived in Texas, but every time we came back to Morgantown we would hang out with him. So, we weren't best friends, but he is my dad and our relationship meant the world to me.

Maybe these dreams are a way for me to feel connected to my dad in a time where I miss him so much. A time in my life where I want him around - to talk about being pregnant, what I was like when I was little, to see him first grandchild. Since I can't have him around - it's not a choice for me - I'll just dream about spending time with him and sharing life with him. That will just have to do.

Remembering. Grieveing. Healing

Dear Dad,

Today it has been two years since you died. I preferred last years anniversary because we were at the beach and I was highly distracted. Everyone knew the date and cared for me accordingly. Not today. Life goes on as usual and I'm not sure many people at all know the significance of this day.

I always had a hard time thinking life would go on after you died. But it has. I'm still shocked sometimes when I think about you being gone. There have been times when I've gone to call you or wanted to visit, but you're not there. I have to remind myself that your not available - ever again.

The hardest times have been smelling your cologne on some random man walking by, picking out father's day cards and not getting one for you. It's hard to see the gum you used to chew or the brand of beer you used to drink. When it comes down to it, dad, it is the small things in life that make the biggest difference.

It breaks my heart that you will not know your grandchild that is contently growing in my womb. I didn't get to call you and tell you that you would be a grandfather. You don't get to see pictures of my growing belly or buy cute outfits for our baby. Instead, I'll have to be okay with showing my baby pictures of you, of telling it about you. Some days, that just doesn't seem fair.

So today has not been an easy day. The world is going on. Sometimes I don't think about you for days or weeks at a time and then the memories come raging in and nearly crush me all over again. Dad, my world is moving on to. There is so much happening, so many new things, hard things, sad things, good things. But even as my world changes and moves, you're always apart of who I am and I love that.

I like seeing pictures of you and then I'm reminded how much I look like you did. I wonder what characteristics my baby will have of you. I cry sometimes, but nobody knows, because I miss you and it's hard not having a dad.

I won't forget you, I can't. I love you. And more than anything, I miss you. And although I can't tell you anymore, and should have when you were here, YOU are my favorite dad.

Love,
Ashley

Family Reunion...

I must say that family reunions aren't as fun now that we're older. We don't know people as well and see them only once a year. It's hard going to the reunion without my dad being there, but I know he would want us there. So we go...

This year they did a carnival theme and it was pretty fun. My sister had a great time playing the games for prizes (which were mostly non-perishable food items). It was nice seeing family and we were able to tell a lot of people that we are pregnant. It was warm and I was grateful for cold water and shaded seating. We laughed at the white elephant auction and then said our good-byes.

Here are some pictures from the reunion:

Family Tree... There is our family...right. there... :)
My sister doing the ring toss. If you got a ring on the soda bottle, you got to take it with you. And she did. twice.
Bethany and I after the duck game. As you can see, she got a lot more ducks than me. But we were both pretty excited...
My cousin, Audrey, and I. We were the only ones who got the "wear a green shirt" memo. Good for us.
Patrick and I. It was sunny. Patrick is not high :)

It's finished....

Oh my soul. It's over. Closing went so smoothly and everyone was in great spirits. I can't tell you how free I feel right now! Burden free. Free to move on. Worry free. Free to grieve and mourn and grow without any attachments, contingencies or signatures.

Thank you so much for praying for yesterday. I felt them. The Lord was so sweet and so gracious! I appreciate you all so much!

To celebrate, we went out to dinner last night at a favorite restaurant, Luigi's. I didn't hold back. I had the tiramisu and the blackberry wine. It was certainly a worthy thing to celebrate - being done - and I would celebrate every night for a week if I could!

Oh, please happen!

Tomorrow, hopefully, is the closing on my dad's house. It's been such a long process and it's been almost a year and a half since my dad died. It will be oh-so-nice to not have this hanging over our heads and perhaps, moving on from this portion of death will come about.

I'm leaving sweet little Indiana, PA at 6:30am to get to Morgantown in time for closing. I'm hoping for a joyful trip, as I'll be alone - thinking, singing, praying, hoping. I am hoping that this will be the last time I have to make the two hour drive for this cause. I know that this is an emotional situation and I look forward to it being over. Although, I'm not so naive to think that this may not bring about more things to think about, pray about and work through. I'm willing. I'm ready. I want to move on.

Please, please, please will you join me in praying that the closing happens and goes smoothly. Please pray that my sister and I will be able to work things out amoung ourselves and deal peacefully, unselfishly and lovingly with one another.

I'll update on this situation after I see the closing actually take place :) Here's to a successful morning!

I think I see a light at the end of the tunnel...

It has been one year and three months since my dad has died. Most days, it doesn't affect me and I feel so bad for forgetting. Other days are very hard and it takes me hours to wrap my mind around the fact that my dad is, indeed, dead. What a harsh reality to realize over and over again.

When my dad died, he left several things undone. Between my sister and I, we've gotten things cleared up and taken care of. My sister did a lot right after he died to settle things. The only thing left is to sell the house. It's a looming discouragement. It would have been SO much easier to grab a realtor and put the house on the market a year ago. That didn't happen, so here we are waiting and waiting.

I took over the house selling process to speed it up. It needed to be done and more importantly, it needed to be done quickly! A couple contacted me last month about the house. They've been interested in it for some time and finally we were able to compromise with a price that worked for everyone. So, the day before Thanksgiving, I drove to Morgantown to show the house. It was a successful meeting and I did my best to befriend them so I couldn't come across and frustrated and annoyed. (because I was very much those things that day)

We've stayed in contact and they have been super friendly. I'm grateful the Lord has been moving this process along at a good pace! I'm SOOOOOO happy to say that after a quick meeting with a realtor friend, I was able to send them a "Contract of Sale" TODAY! I mailed it express mail so they will get it tomorrow, review and sign it, send it back to me and we'll be on our way to closing! Yipee!

Even better news: they want to close the week after Christmas! While it may be a crazy week, I'm really looking forward to the estate being settled. I'm ready to close this book and move on. I want to enjoy the memories of my dad and continue healing without thinking about what's next on the estate agenda. It will be so nice to be free from this burden.

Please pray that all goes well and that this transaction moves along smoothly and quickly! I would certainly appreciate it! Thank you all for being such incredible prayer warriors in my life right now! I need you and I'm SO grateful for you!

Reunion

Last Saturday, my dad's side of the family had a reunion. We haven't been able to go for the last few years, so we made sure we stopped by this year. It was nice to see family and catch up with a few people. Mostly, it was weird because my dad wasn't there and the people there don't associate with me on a regular basis.

Growing up, the reunion was a big deal. It was at Big Bear Lake and we would always go early and stay late. I was pretty close with all my cousins, so it was really fun for me to get to hang out with them all day. As time went on, they sold the campsite and we moved the reunion to a park in Morgantown. Even now, the reunion just isn't the same. A lot of things have changed over the years, but still I wish that being there wasn't as hard as it was.

I'm trying to figure out what family looks like now. Without my dad, it's so hard to see the faces that knew him so well, that grew up with him, that made so many memories with him. It's easy to forget that I'm not alone in my sadness. But I'm not. There are many aunts, uncles, cousins, brothers and a mother who miss my dad as much as I do.

Each person in my family is different, yet very similar. How do I relate to people who I don't know? How can I share my life with people who never took the time to really get to know me? How can I stand up for who I am among people who've always wanted me to be something else? I don't know.

Anyways, this year they had a luau theme at the reunion. It was quite funny to see my family dressed in Hawaiian shirts, grass skirts and lei's. Here is a picture of Patrick, myself and my sister:

Fathers Day

Yesterday was Father's Day. I wasn't sure what to expect emotionally, but it was hard. It was nice to have a step dad and a father-in-law near by to enjoy, but not having my dad was hard.

I was in and out of reality most of the day. Sometimes I question if my dad is really dead. I thought I was over that stage, but I think I just want him around so badly that I'll make myself believe anything. I never thought I would still be dealing with such heavy emotions after 10 months. I thought I would be healed. I was so naive to think that death is easy to get over.

I cried a lot yesterday and tried to have a good day, I really did. I'm so thankful for Patrick who was constantly asking if I was okay and also for a dear friend who called to let me know she was thinking about me and praying for me. That really meant a lot and I think it helped me get through the day.

Not having my dad here for Father's Day made me even more aware of how gone he is. I would have been so happy to visit him and give him a great big hug and present him with the mushiest card I could find. I would tell him how special he is to me, how grateful I am for him. I would tell him that I think he is so funny, that I think he is a hard worker, that I think he is a good dad. But since I didn't and I can't now, would you please tell your dad's all the things you love about him so that you don't have to remember that you forgot too? He'll appreciate your sweet words and you'll appreciate the sweet hug you get in return.

Although I don't have my dad around to celebrate, I can rejoice that I have a Father in Heaven that is incredible! He is my Shepherd, my protector, my provider, my hand holder. He is my peace, He is my joy, He is the One who always understands me. He will never leave me, He will never abandon me to the grave and He will never forget me. How can I be so forgetful of the One who saved me, redeemed me and the One who loves me passionately? While I don't have an earthly father to run too, I have a Father who is so much more than any other father could ever be. Father's Day wasn't easy because it was the first father's day since my dad died. But Father's Day wasn't horrible because I have a Father in Heaven to delight in.

Set in stone

Today was beautiful. The sun was out and it was breezy. Patrick had a meeting in Southern West Virginia, so I drove him to the meeting then headed to Morgantown for the day. It was nice to be on my "home turf", although there are so many new things that I sometimes feel very out of place.

I've been meaning to drive to Tunnelton, WV for about 7 months now. It's a good 50 minutes away. The weather has kept me closer to home. I had no special connection to Tunnelton until last August. My dad is buried in a cemetery there.

I've not been to see my dad since he died. Some of me had been putting off, but most of me was ready. Since I didn't have anything to do today, I thought it would be the perfect day to face my fears, to face my past, my present and my future. I didn't think it would be too hard, until I was on the road to Tunnelton.

About half way there, I got nervous. I was a little shaky, I was scared, I was ready, but I wasn't. I stopped to get flowers for the grave. The lady at the flower shop was very sweet and very empathetic. I appreciated that. I didn't know if there would be any already there, but I wanted to leave something for him. It's so weird to talk about "seeing" him or leaving something "for" him. I know full well that he is dead, but there is an undeniable comfort in sitting face to face with a rock with your dead fathers name on it that I really can't explain.

I finally pull up to the grave yard, take a deep breath, and walked over to his grave. The headstone looked really nice. I hadn't seen it since we picked it out. I wasn't really sure what to do or where to begin. So, I tried to remember how the lady at the flower shop told me to make the flowers stay in the ground (there's no vase on the stone and she gave me a little thing to stick in the ground). I fumbled a bit, talking to my dad, crying. At last, I remembered what to do and got the flowers firmly stuck in the ground. I laid my coat down and sat, a little uncomfortably, in front of my dad's headstone. I couldn't remember what I wanted to say, I couldn't remember what I wanted to tell him. So, I cried. Loudly, for several minutes.

Cars would drive by, I'm sure pondering my tears and who I was sitting before. I would if I were them. I didn't care. Crying, laughing, talking, I didn't care what they thought of me. I was visiting my dad. I remembered all the things I wanted to talk to him about. I told him about the farm, about Indiana, PA. I told him how Piper was growing. I told him about the repairs on his house, so we could sell it. I asked him questions that I never had the courage to ask. I told him about our new car. I told him things I felt when he died. I told him things my counselor told me about healing. I cried. I told him how I felt about him dying. I even made a few jokes and laughed out loud, soberly reminded that I was laughing alone. I told him I missed him something fierce. I told him I loved him with even more fierceness.

I sat there, with my dad, for about 45 minutes. At some point, I realized I was no longer uncomfortable. I felt like that spot on the ground was made for me to sit and stay a while. I made a heart with small rocks laying around. Unfortunately, I realized that most of them were probably from the dirt, dug deeply from the ground to cover his casket. I didn't care about that either. I played with the grass, with dry leaves, with the daises I brought. I felt like I was on a first date, kind of. I found it nearly unbelievable that I was talking to my dead father. Maybe I didn't want to believe it, I rarely do. Maybe I was just in a new shock. Maybe I wasn't ready.

Being there today was good for me. It was much harder than I thought it would be. So many vivid memories flooded my mind; thoughts of times with my dad, thoughts of him dying, thoughts of the viewing and the funeral, thoughts of my sobbing after everyone was gone and they were lowering him into the ground (I probably shouldn't have watched that...oh well). Although I trust that the Lord is carefully and tenderly healing me, I have these moments of utter confusion. Is this seriously happening? It is and I'm grateful to have the Lord to guide me through it. I have a lot of questions. I have a lot of hurt and wounds. But most importantly, I have a Heavenly Father who knows all of that, who will never abandon me to the grave, He'll never leave me and He loves me more than I'll ever know. For those reasons, I'll just surrender all I have to Him and trust that someday, I'll know what needs to be known.

Today was a hard day.

Charles Keith Royce

My dad. I can't believe that this month will be six months since he died. I still have bad days, when I just cry and shake my head in disbelief. It's funny how, while it's been half a year already, I still think it's all make believe and that my dad didn't really die.

My mind will be racing one minute with today's to-do list, then the very next minute I'll be lost in thought about my dad. I can recall much more vividly memories I had forgotten. I praise God for that gift. I sometimes smile, thinking about something my dad would say often. I chuckle out loud when I think of him doing things that embarrassed me. Oh, how I would love to talk with my dad again. I would love to make just one more memory with him. Those feelings, I can tell you, will never go away.

I'm so grateful for the way the Lord has been healing my heart. Each day, I learn more about who God is and that makes losing my earthly father a little more bearable. My Heavenly Father cares deeply about me, I have learned this full well through this time of sorrow and mourning.

My dad was funny. I don't think he minded getting his picture taken, but he never seemed ready! He always has a funny look on his face or his mouth was in such a way as though he was getting ready to say something. I laugh about these things as I look, fondly, at pictures I have of him. I'm going to make a scrapbook of all of these pictures. If you want, when I'm done, I'll show you each page and tell you a story. A picture is worth a thousand words indeed, especially when you're in a picture with someone who is gone. When my thousand words are up for a picture, I'll ask you if I can share just one thousand more. Oh, I would love to talk to you about my dad, about my heart and about how it all fits together.

How'd you like to spend Christmas, on Christmas Island?

The last week or so has been particularly difficult for me. Everywhere I turn, something reminds me of my dad. Not to mention all the other emotional things going on in my life, this eventually leads to many tears. The other day Patrick and I were sitting in Starbucks talking. Christmas music was playing (rather loudly) and we were enjoying one anothers company and occasionally singing along to the music. The song "Christmas Island" came on not too long into our conversation. Most of you have no idea who sings it or where it came from and that's OK. I instantly knew the song when I heard the musical intro. This song is by Jimmy Buffett and it's on his Christmas album (as if it were on several others?). My dad loved Jimmy Buffett(JB). Always and forever, as long as I can remember, we would get my dad the newest cassette and then cd the day it came out. I'm sure he had every album ever made by Jimmy Buffett, not forgetting all of the books he wrote too. My dad loved JB so much that we thought it only appropriate to play JB music during the viewing AND the funeral.

I can remember making up dances to JB songs with my sister for my dad. I can remember asking the meaning to certain songs at a very young age. I remember listening to JB when I was riding in the truck with my dad (it was JB or classic rock, which I grew fond of both). I remember reading the JB book my dad got me. I remember my dad's favorite JB song AND his favorite JB shirt.

My dad went to a lot of JB concerts and, therefore, had a lot of t-shirts, sweatshirts, hats, ect. When we were going through his things the week of his funeral, my sister and I picked out the cd's and the shirts we wanted to keep. I shirts I picked out still smell like him and they are in a special place so I look at them, if I so choose.

As soon as I heard this song all of reality came crashing down on me. My dad will absolutely not be here for Christmas. Not this Christmas, not any Christmas ever again. I began crying and eventually sobbing, singing every single word. Even now, the thought of song brings to me tears. All of my Christmas memories include my dad. Even after my parents got divorced and then when I got married. I always saw my dad. The memories that stick out the most are memories from when I was little, (seven, eight, nine, ten) and some Christmas' are etched vividly into my memory.

I read this in the study notes of my bible yesterday: (from Job)

"How natural it is for Job's well-meaning friends to try to "fix" Job's problems and view his situation through the lens of their own finite experiences....In the face of unexplainable suffering, we can humbly admit that we do not know all that is in God's mind and simply comfort our friends rather than try to fix things for them."

How true. How often have I pretended to know exactly what someone was going through, only to offer unhelpful, discouraging advice. All the while, I think I'm doing good by bringing truth or a kind word. It has become apparent to me, that while in the midst of suffering, a gentle hug and a sweet prayer are much more meaningful than words of wisdom, truth of encouragement.(But to every season...there is a time appropriate for wisdom and truth.) No one can feel my pain. Nor can I feel the pain of someone else. Who knows what other pain may be welling up inside of someone who is already suffering.

May I remember the words of Job, and may this be the reflection of my heart:

"Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked I will depart. The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised." 1:21

"...Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble? 2:10

Everyone here knows how to cry...

"It's a long way down, it's a long way down to the place where we started from..."
-Sarah McLaughlin

I agree. It's a long way down and I prefer to forget where I came from. The place I started from seems so long gone, so far away. Or maybe it's just a few memories back. I think it depends on which day you ask me.

I have just come home from a 42 hour excursion that turned out to be the most freeing and difficult hours of my life, believe it or not. My sister and I spent most of this time cleaning out my dad's house. I don't think I was ready for that. I am still in disbelief that my dad is really dead. No more phone calls, no more Christmas with him. I will never see his handwriting in a card again. Whew. It wasn't too bad until we had to start throwing things away. These things were the very things that made me think of my dad my whole life. Good things, bad things, in between things. But we finished, kind of, sorting, cleaning and tossing.

As soon as we landed in Pittsburgh, I started having anxiety attacks. I've never had them before and hope to not ever have them again. I thought I was having a heart attack and I couldn't sleep. It was horrible. I finally went to sleep and didn't have another one until we were picking out the headstone for the grave site.

I have years of built up frustration, anger and hurt. Things weren't easy as a child, but I made it through. It's a long way back. My sister and I had an argument the morning I was leaving. I have never ever been so angry, frustrated, sad or free in my life. I punched my sister...hard...several times. I ever cursed at her. I was so mad, I threw up. It was bound to come out. People say you feel better after hurting someone who has hurt you so much...I didn't feel better, I felt horrible.

It was freeing though, in so many ways. I was freed from my "perfection" in the eyes of my sister, I was freed from trying to be "a good Christian"...How can I be a "good"Christian if I'm not being real and authentic? (That makes me so sad. Christians try so hard to be perfect and good that they end up being hypocritical, judgmental and self-centered. Oh, Lord, save me from being a "good Christian" and may I be an authentic follower of Jesus.)

I felt so free from memories that hurt and scars from my past. I felt freed from the need to be someone I wasn't. Even if it was just for an hour, I was free. As I was hitting my sister,(I do understand that this was not the most effective way to get my anger out, but it happened.) I felt like I was hitting a figurative brick wall. It was as if the Lord used this as a way to show me how hard I'm trying to fight Him and I just keep running into a wall, getting hurt, crying.

I'm so tired of fighting. I'm so weary. I want everything to be over and to start getting better. I see more of my sin everyday and it breaks my heart. And I know it breaks the Lord's heart. I so often fight the fights that the Lord wants to fight and then I sit back and relax during the fights He wants me to fight. So much fighting, so many battles. I feel like my cries are falling on deaf ears. I don't know what tears I have left. In fact, I'm not so sure He even sees all of these tears. I know that the Lord will never abandon me, but honestly, I'm not convinced that He will rescue me.

I have learned to be authentic and transparent. How will I grow if I'm always trying to please you? How will I be transformed if I would rather seek you than seek my God? I want to live out these truths. Will He rescue me? I'm sure, He always does. So why then is it so hard to trust Him right now? I will hang on to this hope, "You, O Lord, keep my lamp burning; my God turns my darkness into light." (Psalm 18:28)

If it's a long way down, then I imagine the climb up is even longer and harder. I'm thankful that my God turns my darkeness into light. I'm hopeful that as I climb higher, the light will get brighter. I hope to learn which battles are mine and which are His. I hope I don't take this hard, long, dark road for granted. I hope I learn to trust God deeper, wider, fully. Meanwhile, I'm hanging on tight to His light because I don't like the dark anymore.

So you know...

Preface: This is not to one person, this blog is for the general population of people who don't know how to deal with grief. I am simply (or not so simply) expressing my thoughts, feelings and emotions during this time in my life.

My dad dying has certainly changed me in many ways. Some for the good, some probably for the worst. The way I look at things, the way I speak, the way I act...these have all been affected by the touch of death.

I don't think I believed in death until 5 weeks and 1 hour from right this minute. It may sound so foolish to say that, but honestly who believes in death until they are affected by it? Sure, my grandparents and uncles and aunts die. I know that. But my dad, no, he doesn't die. You can't teach death to people, you can't prepare them for the shock, the pain. Death is something each person has to experience for themselves. I wish for everyone who hasn't that they wouldn't have to feel the pain, but death is one of the only certain things we know here on this earth.

Many people have told me "Let me know if there is anything I can do for you." I smile and say ok. But really, I have no idea what anyone can do or what I can ask from people. Death is scary and it causes a part of us, whether we know the dead person or not, to stop and consider how mortal we are. I have mentioned that I need help in a previous blog. I am serious. Instead of ignoring me or the topic of death, I will give you all something to consider when you talk with me or see me. And if this isn't something that helps you now, please think of this when someone else looses someone close to them.

This is a list of things that would be helpful to me (and perhaps anyone else going through this) at this point in my life:
*Ask me to have lunch with you.
*Invite me over to see your house or just sit in your house if I've already seen it.
*Invite me to coffee.
*Come over to my house.
*Invite Patrick and I to dinner.
*Cook us dinner
*Call me and ask me how I'm doing today. Contrary to popular belief, I need to talk about my dad dying and in fact, I want to.
*Ask me to go for a walk.
*Borrow my dog for a few hours.
*Encourage me that cleaning is a good and fun thing. You would be surprised that when your dad dies, you don't want to do any of the things you use to love doing.
*Scrapbook with me.
*Send me a card.
*Email me
*Tell me about fun things going on in your life. I may not have a lot of fun things going on in my life right now, but I would surely love to hear about yours.
*Send me/bring me flowers. Because I love looking at flowers.
*Tell me your praying for me
*Ask me to go get ice cream with you. It is helpful for you to like ice cream too, because no one likes to eat ice cream alone.

I might not have the humility to always ask for help and I might not always know who to ask. But please know that I need you and I am so thankful for what people have already done for me. I don't want to make anyone feel guilty or bad for not doing these things. I do want you to know what to do, because someones dad or mom or brother or sister is going to die. And they are going to need you and me. Just because you can't empathize, you can still talk to me. And if you don't know what to say, say "I don't know what to say," and I'll take over from there :)

I feel like I am all alone in this. Certainly this is my trial and I know that. I learn something new everyday and I'm quite thankful for this trial because it's changing me into a more godly woman. (And I certainly need changing.) Not because I am more spiritual that anyone, but because I'm learning the beauty of authenticity and dependence on Someone much bigger than myself. To know the Lord in an intimate, real and beautiful way, that is a priceless gift...no matter the circumstances.

Ahem...

soap-box:
Function: noun: an improvised platform used by a self-appointed, spontaneous, or informal orator; broadly : something that provides an outlet for delivering opinions.

Ah, my soapbox. You call it a blog. I call it sweet release. Here I sit, typing all of my thoughts, feelings and emotions into a little box. I hit publish and the whole world could see how I feel, what I'm thinking, where I want to go (and I REALLY want to go...).

So, here I go...
Some things that bother me right now:
-The fact that I have to step over a baby gate to get into the office. Not because I don't want a sweet baby to eat something, but because I don't want our insane dog to chew up the place.
-The fact that the world can have babies and people bring them meals to help them out, but my dad dies and I get nothing, no help.
-Depression, anger, fear, inability to articulate my emotions to the one person I want to know everything about me.
-The way people think talking about my dad is a no-no. It's like I have a disease.
-Over commiting myself (and I do this so easily).
-Fasting from Starbucks because I know I should, but loathing every second.

Some things that I like/love right now:
-Listening to my husband play random songs on the piano...ahhhhhhh.
-Taking naps on the couch, only to be woken up by my husband snuggling up beside me.
-Cool evenings, a cool breeze, and leaving our back door open to let it all in.
-Learning new things.
-Playing the place the state game online...you know you like it!
-The way Patrick warms up left overs and says, "Thanks honey, that was so good." Precious man.
-Dancing the Rumba with my husband around our house.

And now things that are hard for me:
-It is difficult for me to control tears.
-I am finding it quite difficult to speak with a filter anymore. Can't a girl just say what she wants?
-I go back and forth with leaving. Get me out now, let's stay a few more months, I want to leave yesterday, do we have to go?
-Trying to process my dad dying and all that entails. Who am I? Why did this happen? Will I ever be whole again?
-Leaving my very first home. It's so cute. Anyone want to come over before it's gone?!

Places I want to go:
-The Marriott that will give me a $100 gift certificate for the Memorial City Mall if I stay the night. I'll take it!
-Seattle, WA
-Maine...anywhere is fine. Does anyone else love New England like I do?
-Morgantown, WV
-"I wanna go back in tiiime." Back to the Future anyone?
-Somewhere cold with lots of snow. I would like this place to have a mountain to ski on and a resort to get a massage in.
-I want to go get a massage and a pedicure.

OK, thanks for reading. I think I'm done for tonight.

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." *Matthew 11:28-30

I long for this rest. I love that, as God's beloved, I can rest between His shoulders right now (ref Deut 33:12). I love that He desires to care for me. I feel like my burden is overwhelming. I am indeed weary in all ways and my body is weak. I want so badly for the Lord to carry me the rest of the way. This wilderness is hard.

But I have this hope: In Christ alone can I find this rest for my soul. He restores my soul (Psalm 23:3). I pray that I can stand in Him, with unwavered faith, as He shepherds me through this hard time. He is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit (psalm 34:18).

My Dad

Last Saturday, my dad died. It was completely unexpected and I cannot believe how badly it hurt to receive the phone call about his death. It still hurts every day. There are so many things I wanted to say, so many things I wanted to ask him or tell him. I wish I could have said good-bye to him or said I love you one last time.

I have never experienced death in this way before. In fact, I can honestly say I was rather naive about the whole thing. I never thought my dad would die...at least when I was 24. My dad's birthday was last Friday. He turned 49. The autopsy said that he had coronary artery disease and died from a myocardial infraction...which is a heart attack.

Did he hurt? Did he know I loved him? Can he hear me now? Did he accept Christ ever? Will my dad be in heaven when I get there? These things I do not know. All the times I had to share my faith with him. All the conversations we had about Jesus...was that enough? I know I could have done more.

I forget sometimes that my dad has died. When I remember again, it's almost as hard as hearing the news for the first time. I can't believe it and I go through stages of unbelief several times a day. Surely, this is not real. It is.

Patrick asked me last weekend if this has shaken my faith at all. I can honestly say no. It has grown my faith, increased my desire to know God more, shown me how weak I am, yet how strong the Lord can make me. My dad's death has given me an opportunity to mourn with others who have lost a parent and has helped me to see my own shortcomings and areas where I could grow. It has not, however, made me want to turn my back on the only One who knows all things, Who is in control of all things and Who sits gloriously enthroned in His Kingdom.

The Lord has graciously provided many people to encourage me, love me, listen to me and pray for me through this whole thing. It seems like it's been weeks now, but it has only been one. God has shown Himself to me in ways that I would never have imagined. And the series we recently finished at church was, no doubt, intended for me. God has been my Yahweh-Shalom this week when I didn't know peace could be real. He has been El Roi, when I cannot see even the closest thing in front of me. He has been Yahweh-Raah, in the darkness of this wilderness. Oh, how I long for green pastures.

I miss my dad, a lot. Here is the letter I wrote to him and read at his funeral. My sister and I decided that we would do the eulogy. We each wrote our dad a letter and shared it with all who attended:
Dad,
Words cannot express the pain I feel. My heart hurts so badly, knowing you're not here anymore. I wish I could say I love you one more time, I wish I could have said good-bye.

Do you know how thankful I am for you? You were always there for us. And even when you didn't know what to say, in the end you always said the right thing. That's why you were a dad. My dad.

I love your heart, dad. I hope I can have a heart as big as yours. I admire your compassion, your generosity and your desire to care for and protect Beth and I. I am forever grateful that you are my father.

I'm not sure what I'm going to do now with you, without my daddy. I know that things are hard now, but I think if you were here you would have your arm around me, wiping each tear away saying, "don't cry kiddo."

I remember when I hurt my ankle and you came and scooped me up in your arms, carried me to your truck and took me to the hospital. You were so brave for me. That day, I knew that I had the strongest, bravest dad in the whole world.

I remember your stories. The giants, the Indians, the caves. You told great stories, dad. I remember going to the mines with you. I remember your hugs. You were a good hugger, full of unconditional, unfailing love.

I long to hear you say, "Goodnight, sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite", one more time.

Remember how you use to get on the floor and be our horse? Remembering running through the house being Peter Pan? Remember how I use to beg you to listen to our sesame Street 8-track in between Jimmy Buffett songs? Remember how I would make "food" out of mom's flowers and mud and you would pretend to eat them? Remember how Beth and I would run and jump on your bed to wake you up on Sunday mornings? Remember our taco eating contests? You are so great. These memories are forever engraved on my mind and your love engraved on my heart.

I will never forget you. And I will tell my kids all about you, so they will never forget you either. You would have been a wonderful grandpa.

Oh dad, I love you. Always have, always will. You will always be my dad and I will always be thankful for the time we had together.

So, good night, sleep tight, and don't let the bed bugs bite.
Love,
Ashley