Headed for Home…

 

This is a difficult post to write.  Generally I’ll mull something over for a day or so, trying to organize my entry, center and exit.

But this has danced about my world for months now.  I’m trying to co-ordinate a game plan that cannot be instituted until the real journey begins.  The last chapter.  The letter of triumph.

Yes.  I have a roadmap.  This territory has been traversed before, but not this particular part of the forest.  I’m somewhere above the tree line this time.  Searching and seeking, setting up my co-ordinates.

It’s not that my time of searching is in vain, surely I’m lining up my defenses and corralling my allies.  But I’m walking aimlessly, all the while carrying a ticking time bomb in the pocket of my being.

Death paces back and forth outside this doorstep.  It’s anxieties and fatigue argue with its captor as we helplessly sit on the sideline.  No release, no refuge, only the banging of the seconds that ricochet across the room.  Sometimes we speak to it, but often we chaotically careen about its edges.

Aimlessly we circle.  Weary.  Downtrodden.  Fatigued beyond all bone weariness. And we are lost, knowing that nothing we say, nor do, can calm this awful ache of watching helplessly as death paces.  Endless is its trajectory, and yet, we hang a false veil of hope that this is only a night terror and one that will release us once we awake.

I will be overwhelmed upon its arrival.  Nothing can prepare my heart and soul for the loss of someone that means so much to me.  My faith is full, but in my human-ness, it is tested. Why?

You deserve to be free.  Thanks, Dad.  You have made me wealthy beyond measure, taught me things I had never realized I needed.  You sheltered me from the storm when needed, but left me to drift and bash about when it was necessary.  You taught me that silence was golden, but words used wisely could soar beyond the heavens, bringing  justice to the doorstep of where it so rightfully belonged.  The riches you bestowed upon me are my cartography.  I have been blessed by your gifts and will always remember their latitudes and longitudes.  He was your beacon, you are my light.

 

 

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~ by coffeegrounded on August 1, 2015.

16 Responses to “Headed for Home…”

  1. Margie, my heart aches for you. The rest is not in words because words are too few, too thin, but I give my shoulder and my ear.

    • Thank you. I have been gifted. Friends, family and the most wonderful father-in-law that anyone could imagine. My heart is breaking, but friends, like you, are making this journey not so lonely, dark and all-consuming. God has blest me.

      Thank you. ❤️

  2. Oh human!😿 I’m so sorry! This is so beautifully written, I had the human read it twice – words can’t express what you said so beautifully – truly anointed words. The human and I are broken heated fur what you’re enduring – remember to take refuge in the arms of Jesus – He will get you safely through it!

  3. You and your father were so lucky to have had each other. I hope that his passing is peaceful and that in time your memories bring you only smiles once the tears pass. My dad’s been gone more than 20 years. I think of him all the time and still feel his presence in my life daily. I hope that happens for you as well. Hang on. (not that you have a choice.)

    • Thank you. This man has been one of my life’s greatest blessings. My own father was abusive and distant. My father-in-law has truly treated me as if I were his very own daughter. He’ll be with me even in death, again, I appreciate your kind words.

    • It’s a miracle when the right people come into your life and you into theirs. I hope the remaining time you have together is beautiful.

    • 💝

  4. Excellent. I don’t have the entire background, but I was able to understand some of it by the responses left by others.

    You mentioned how this has been demanding to be said for months (my words, not yours) and you’ve finally found a way into it. It’s important because it needs to be said correctly.

    • I’m sorry, I’m confused by your last sentence. Can you clarify it for me? Thank you!

    • Well, there seemed to be some grief, something that had occurred earlier in previous responses. By reading through your back and forth I decided it was something that didn’t pertain to me, something I didn’t need to know. Sorry about beating around the bush. Bad habit, I guess.

    • No problem. I do the same thing. We’re human. ;) enjoy a great day, Scott!

  5. :-)

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