"I thought it would be getting better": Honest & Beautiful Weekend Moments

I talked with a friend yesterday and she confessed, " I thought it would be getting better but it seems to be getting worse." She's a great friend, and very perceptive.  Her kids are also still struggling with this loss, like many of us. They even pray for my littles at night, specifically. I'm so grateful for our village, even the tiniest prayer warriors. I know everyone's grief journey is different but I'm telling you this...it's NOT getting better. It is indeed getting worse. As we are slowly realizing that maybe this is not dream, or a cruel prank. We're not trapped inside some warped video game, this is real. Today, as we headed out for our new tradition "Sundae Sundays", Kendall said to me, "It's the fact that I won't be able to see him in this world, in this life, on this side that really makes me sad." Even typing that, I'm squinting in confusion. How is this so? Like how? 

Max opened up today and he and I have also had several poignant conversations this weekend. One of my favorites was when he told a specific story (I'll let him share) about how his dad was very efficient at maximizing opportunities.  humble his Dad was. "He never said "I'm the greatest Dad in the world" he just was."  I'm extremely grateful for the legacy of humility that Patrick left for us and for the world.  Max was the first to declare that his future kids would refer to Patrick as GrandPat. So, when he talks about the stories he'll tell them, he uses that moniker.  In a time where my son is coming of age, he needs his Dad. I watched him walk onto a playground court and join in on a pick-up basketball game.  He's growing up, but Pat's not here.   

I recalled how Patrick would pray over me every morning. I'd feel his heavy hand land on my shoulder, or my head, as he would silently pray and then I'd hear "Amen." Off to work he would go, or upstairs to pray if he was working from home.  He was so very consistent. We all remember him praying over us. We've also been reflecting this weekend about how he was the "calm". Kendall has some "hypochondriac tendencies", and she was telling me the story of how calmly Patrick would assure her. "He made me feel safe." Even sweet little Amira still asks for her Dad. She is still nursing, and the only child to nurse past the age of 16 months.  Mostly because I've only ever successfully weaned the children with Pat's help. 

Somehow, he managed to be an excellent human being, all while pointing us to the Source.  And even that, makes this harder to grasp.  His humility, kindness, and infectious personality has touched us all. Yet he never made it about him; always about Him. So, we're wrestling this weekend. There have been extreme highs and lows.  There are no platitudes, no scriptures, no number of casseroles that can help.  This just sucks. 

September 18, 2022