I've spent a lot of time in the past few weeks yelling at my kids. Not because they deserve it but because every time something got hard I got angry. I thought a lot of it was because of the journey we have ahead of us to inter my father's ashes. That with my kids fighting bedtime, I was a mess.
Two days before Father's Day was here, my friend mentioned how hard it is. And I wanted to cry. I didn't think Father's Day was going to be anything for me because I hadn't made it anything for my Dad over the past few years. On Saturday, I had two lemonade and vodkas before supper. I loved the buzz. On Sunday, I just kept breathing and tried to make it through. The first hymn at church was one we often sang as I was growing up and I could hear my Dad's voice. I couldn't sing. Too many tears were ready.
Monday we started a project on our porch that I thought would be quick. Pressure washing away the paint on the ceiling of our porch and then letting it dry so I could start painting on Friday. That was not the case. There's been a lot of scraping. I hate scraping.
This morning I woke up and I was on the verge of tears. I'm sad. I'm grieving. It's an unexpected stage but it is still hard. I kept trying to put one foot in front of the other but I was stuck. I didn't know how I'd make it through with the kids. My feet have been bothering so I decided I'd load them up in the car and head north 35 miles to get some insoles as well as play at a park that was near enough to the store. I didn't leave on time so that I could get back for nap time. But instead of getting stressed out, I let go. (This is my biggest lesson right now, learning to let go.) I stopped at a St. Arbucks, grabbed a fully-caffeinated latte and headed to the park. The kids played for an hour and I love drinking my coffee as they had fun. Then we got my insoles and headed to a fast food chicken restaurant-A for lunch. Little Man fell asleep on the way home and continued to sleep when the car was parked at home.
I usually plan things. I hold on to nap time with white knuckles so I can keep my sanity. But today, my sanity was found as I threw away the usual schedule and allowed myself to be sad. It's nice to be sad. It's easier to be angry but actually allowing the hard part, the sadness, through, then the healing can begin.