Three days. It's been three days since I lost my dad to a quick and very agonizing battle with cancer. The pain we are feeling is unimaginable. The grieving process has begun. Our souls ache with sadness. Eyes fill with tears as lips utter why? and weary minds struggle to figure everything out. Our house is cold and silent, much like our hearts.
To say we miss him would be an understatement. We were all believing for a miracle. I'm not mad at God. I'm simply frustrated and hurt, which is to be expected. We told him it was okay with us if he wanted to go. Why, then, are we upset that he actually did? Shouldn't we be rejoicing that he's with Jesus? I guess, but it doesn't change the fact that he will be greatly missed.
I believe it's always God's will to heal people, but I also believe that a person's will ultimately affects the outcome. It may have been my dad's will to leave this life for another. We all know that his pain was unbearable. I'm glad he doesn't have to deal with it anymore. I know where he is and that gives me comfort, but my heart remains heavy. It'll take time to adjust and move forward.
I am so very thankful for the outpouring of support and encouragement that we have been receiving recently. Prayers, words of condolences, hot meals, etc. We're surrounded by people who genuinely care. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. Each and every one of you have been such a tremendous blessing to our whole entire family.
One day we'll meet again, Dad. I promise to take care of Mama. I love you with all of my heart. I'll never forget the last words you said to me "I love you too, baby girl". Now, time to pick up the pieces and move forward.