I wonder how many people feel like they're waiting for someone to rescue them.
It's one of my fantasies, actually. It's something that I thought about today on break at work: What would it be like if some man swept in and took me away, took me on some adventure and took me away from my responsibilities, my cares, my burdens and my pain.
I bet many people dream of something similar, or maybe they pray for God to take all the hurt away. I've done that too.
But I also thought that maybe there's a better path, and maybe that path is to go through things, not around them.
It's been hard in recent months dealing with the loss of my dad.
It was unexpected. It was a brief illness, and I believed he would come home.
Then, one night, I got a phone call. He died alone in the middle of the night, and there was nothing I could do to protect him.
My heart felt ripped out. I was nauseous.
Now with some time between me and the initial shock and pain, I'm not hurting as much, but I still see him in my memories.
Things flash up in my mind at random times.
I see him before he died, leaning his head on my shoulder while we were sitting on his couch. I didn't know then it would be the last time we'd see each other.
I also remember what he looked like after he passed.
It's hard not to think on negative things.
His loss added another knife to the knives in my heart, if you know what I mean.
In some ways I feel adrift now, like I'm going through the motions. I'm searching for the next chapter but feel like I can't find the page.
Maybe that's why it sounds so tempting for me to be rescued: if someone took me away I could not only start over, but also I'd be out of this rut, this grief. I'd be onto something new.
Then again, I suppose, grief might travel with me. Maybe the answer, then, is to stay and persevere. But how?
It's one of my fantasies, actually. It's something that I thought about today on break at work: What would it be like if some man swept in and took me away, took me on some adventure and took me away from my responsibilities, my cares, my burdens and my pain.
I bet many people dream of something similar, or maybe they pray for God to take all the hurt away. I've done that too.
But I also thought that maybe there's a better path, and maybe that path is to go through things, not around them.
It's been hard in recent months dealing with the loss of my dad.
It was unexpected. It was a brief illness, and I believed he would come home.
Then, one night, I got a phone call. He died alone in the middle of the night, and there was nothing I could do to protect him.
My heart felt ripped out. I was nauseous.
Now with some time between me and the initial shock and pain, I'm not hurting as much, but I still see him in my memories.
Things flash up in my mind at random times.
I see him before he died, leaning his head on my shoulder while we were sitting on his couch. I didn't know then it would be the last time we'd see each other.
I also remember what he looked like after he passed.
It's hard not to think on negative things.
His loss added another knife to the knives in my heart, if you know what I mean.
In some ways I feel adrift now, like I'm going through the motions. I'm searching for the next chapter but feel like I can't find the page.
Maybe that's why it sounds so tempting for me to be rescued: if someone took me away I could not only start over, but also I'd be out of this rut, this grief. I'd be onto something new.
Then again, I suppose, grief might travel with me. Maybe the answer, then, is to stay and persevere. But how?