THINK THEO

"I was the first one to see Daddy set free. Daddy was no longer a prisoner in his body and to his torturing thoughts. I went to Momma's side of the bed, soaking up the last moments I would be with Daddy in the house. No coffee, no breakfast, no conversation, but we were there, together."
- My Grief is Not Like Yours, p. 125

I love you, Daddy. I miss you so much. 💔

"I was a Daddy's girl for fifty years. I looked up to him more than any other man in my life. It would be hard for any future male figures in my life to make the grade and measure up to my Daddy's excellence; he was my gauge."
-My Grief is Not Like Yours, p. 110

"I picked out a light gray suit with hints of soft purple thread woven throughout, a lavender shirt, still hanging in its dry cleaner's bag, with a coordinating silver, navy, and lavender tie that I had given him for Father's Day a few years before."
-My Grief is Not Like Yours, p. 169

"I laid my head and arms over his body. I smelled his suit, just like I had smelled it in the closet the day before. I touched his hands, just like I had touched them the morning I found him. They were colder now. I made my way to his face, smelling what I pretended was Old Spice or Campho-Phenique, but it wasn't. It was a smell I have a hard time explaining. It smelled like emptiness and fullness, like his old closet inside a new mansion. He wasn't there, but I could pretend in that moment that he was."
-My Grief is Not Like Yours, p. 176

This girl just popped up on my phone this morning. Notice the date: June 11, 2019.

This was a selfie I sent to Momma because she had bought me this shirt at Gap Factory in Hillsboro, TX before they closed the store.

This was taken before anything truly bad had ever happened in my life. This 47-year-old woman had been through some broken marriages, some stressful job situations, but nothing like she was going to experience that summer of 2019.

I look at this photo, and I try to look behind her smile. I see a naïve, and somewhat innocent, gaze in her eyes. I know my eyes look different now - at least what’s behind them. 

It’s only been seven years, and it feels like a lifetime of heartache. But that’s the funny thing about the heart - it can still function when it’s broken. It even beats stronger.

I feel more alive today, and while I’m saddened by some of the events in my life - I am most proud that I’m still smiling today.

God had me then, and he holds me even tighter today.  You may think that your heart is broken and that it will never be whole again. I’ve got news for you…

God is there - holding your heart together with his hands. And just like Daddy used to preach, “Once you’re in God‘s hands - NO ONE can take you out. You are safe. You are secure. You are His.”

I’m proud of the smiling girl in this picture that popped up on my phone. I can look at her and tell her it’s going to be OK.

And just like Momma always said, “It’ll all work out. That’s just life. We have to keep moving forward.” 💪