My children didn't nap today. Not in the "we just got too busy so it didn't happen" sort of way, but in the bold-faced, toddler-defiant sort of way. And it happens sometimes, to anyone who has a toddler, but today it hurt. A lot.
Because a year ago, I was having the same sort of day, my older two (then a year younger) were giving me a good, hard time during the day and then refusing to nap and going CRAZY and I was at my wits end, texting my mom and not sure what to do because as a pregnant, newly "at-home" mom, this was foreign to me. And my daddy called me, to "talk me down from the ledge" and reassure me that even the best parents have hard days. I cried and cried but he was so soothing and loving that I knew it was going to be okay, and even if my schedule didn't run perfectly for that one day it didn't mean I was going on the list of bad moms.
Last Saturday, my daddy passed away, ending a 14-month very long, very hard, very valiant battle with pancreatic cancer. He departed a warrior, and although it was so very hard to have him go, I was so proud of him just the same. He left in a cloud of peace, among his very best friends and most of his family, and just that fact alone has helped so much in dealing with the pain of the loss.
Until today, when my children didn't nap. When they wouldn't listen. When I needed my daddy to talk me off the ledge once more, but I knew he couldn't do that anymore.
I've been trying to figure out how to put into words this loss. I told a friend a few days ago that I'm sort of afraid to because turning the emotions on and typing them out scares me as I'm afraid they won't stop. My heart is broken. I miss my daddy. He was my hero, my protector, my comforter, my confidant, and even, to an extent, my best friend. He could make things seem right and okay even when they weren't. Situations like these. You can't just put this kind of thing into words, but I am, over the next few days, months, years, going to try, because I know he would want me to. "You don't stop life for life." is what he told us last year when his diagnosis came.
Life will go on, and take me with it. Only I can choose whether I'm being dragged along or keeping the cadence myself. Through God I hope to do the latter. He has sustained me over the last year, even more so over the last week, and I know He can and will take this brokenness and emptiness and recreate it to be something even more beautiful and amazing than I can imagine. While I don't look forward to the coming waves of realization of the loss, I do look forward to the works God is doing through it, for all glory goes to Him, and will go to Him. Healing will come with time, and thank God for the amazing support He has given me by way of family and friends. I could not do it without Him and them.
I have had good days, and not-so-good days. And today, with my children not napping, I miss my daddy.
In my weakness, God is faithful, and He is strong, and I will lean on Him to get me through this.
And doing so, I'll still be laughing,