I’m not sure why it hit me so
hard this morning, but out of nowhere a wave of grief came crashing down on me
pulling me out to sea as I flailed, trying to catch my breath. For a moment I
was buried beneath the weight of the water as it flooded my soul and squeezed
any sense of contentment from my heart. It was a thought—one innocuous thought—that
sent me reeling. We have a summer league swim meet tonight, which Haden will be
participating in. A friend of mine mentioned that her husband will be out of town
for it. When she told me, I was completely unaffected by her statement, but for
some reason it hit me this morning that Woody is not out of town. That is not
the reason he will miss this meet and every swim meet Haden will ever swim in.
He is gone. He will never see his son swim again. He will not watch his oldest
son get married in nine days. He will not see his only daughter mature into the
beautiful, strong woman she is. He will never be here again.
Perhaps, somewhere deep inside, I
had fooled myself into believing that Woody has been on an extended business
trip. The last eight months of his life he commuted to work in North Carolina, which
meant we only saw him two to three times a month. I think I had convinced a
part of myself that just as he returned from all of those business trips, he
would someday return. I think I somewhat expected him to walk through our front
door and apologize for being gone so long and for causing so much grief. I knew
he would never miss out on his kids’ big events. He was the most involved father
I have ever known. Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, “he’ll be back,” has
been playing on repeat. But not anymore. Woody is gone. We are on our own.
Therefore, I will crawl into my
Heavenly Father’s comforting arms and wait for Him to soothe away the pain. I
ache for what Woody is missing. I ache for what the children are experiencing
without him. I ache for the life we had planned that will never be. Yet, I know
God is here, and He will not miss a single breath. And that is the hope I cling
to when grief washes over me and takes my breath away. God is near. We are not really on our own.
