Take the Picture!

May 8, 2022 was Mother’s Day. We had baby dedications at church and since we were dedicating our second son, my dad came to church. That afternoon we went to my parents house and spent time with my dad, went on a walk, and then had dinner once my mom came home from mushroom hunting with my brother and his family. I distinctly remember my dad sitting on the couch holding our second son — who was days away from turning four months old — and our boy was so content. I thought multiple times that I should take a picture, but I didn’t. I was nudged more than once to do so and my dad even commented on how content my baby was sitting with him, but I didn’t listen to that nudge and I’ve regretted it ever since.

The picture of them sitting on the couch is vivid in my mind. To this day I can still see them and picture what he looked liked and what he was wearing. If there was a way to print the image directly from my brain I would because it was the last time my dad held him. After dinner he was holding our oldest son and I still vividly remembering them eating blueberries together and laughing. It was such a good day and when we got home that night I said to Marc how sad I was that I didn’t take any pictures. I said, “You never know when it will be someone’s last holiday, so next time I’m going to make sure that I take pictures.” Little did I know that there wouldn’t be a “next” holiday with my dad because he passed away the next morning.

Looking back on that day and even that night — I truly believe that God was preparing me for Monday. I think He was nudging me to take the picture because He knew that I would want it. I think He reminded me how precious life is and the importance of savoring each moment that night when I was talking to Marc about “last” holidays. There were so many tender mercies from God when I look back on that day and for that I’m grateful. I don’t have the physical pictures, but I have the memories cemented into my mind and I’m beyond grateful for that. There was a lot of laughter and one last after dinner time of playing games with him. It was a really good day that I’ll treasure for the rest of my life.

Waking up to missed calls and texts from my mom and Marc with messages like “You need to call your mom now!” was not at all how I expected to start my Monday. I groggily called her and could barely make sense of the words she was saying. Something about my dad and an ambulance and him not breathing and heading to the hospital — it was a lot. I quickly became awake and felt my heart race and sink at the same time. I typically can stay calm in the initial moments of things and this time was no different. I called my little sister to let her know what was going on, called Marc — who was already on his way home from work — and threw on some clothes. I got my oldest out of bed and as soon as I hugged him, the tears started to slowly form and fall down my face as the reality started to hit me. I hadn’t been told that my dad had actually passed away yet, but deep down I knew it.

The rest of that day is still fresh in my mind from the official news to the family over and the time spent trying to wrap my mind around it all. It’s so interesting how the world around you keeps going as if your life didn’t just come to an abrupt halt. That entire first week leading up to the memorial service felt like it went in slow motion. Marc took the entire week off and there was family and/or friends around all the time. It was such a strange time and such a mix of emotions. Having our boys helped so much because I had something to distract me — I had little humans that needed me and all the cuddling helped immensely.

We all grieve in our own way and one thing that Marc and I did — and still do — is listen to music. We have played some of the songs by The Temptations ever since the day that my dad passed away because it reminds us of him. Marc will often look at me while it’s playing and just say, “I’m sorry” and I always know exactly what he’s talking about. There’s something about others acknowledging that it’s hard without any attempt to say the “right” thing that’s super kind and helpful for me. It doesn’t have to be a long conversation or anything awkward. For me, just acknowledging that it’s still hard is enough. Marc saying “I’m sorry” rarely leads to anything more than me saying “I’m sorry too” because there aren’t any words to say. The initial shock might be over, but the lasting effect is still very present.

One of the ways that I find myself working through things now is by writing it all down here. While these are things that I probably should’ve written down in real time, I fully trust that God can use anything, so maybe there’s a reason that it took me 15 months to really open up about the hard. Not because I’ve figured anything out, but because the woman, wife, and mama I am today is vastly different then the one I used to be. I treasure people and moments more deeply. I’ve learned a lot and my relationship with God is so much deeper. Going back over things and writing about them is teaching me even more and reminding me of how far I’ve come and the areas that I still need to grow in.

Life is such a gift and every breath that we breathe is truly a miracle. It is my prayer that I would never take it for granted — not the days or the moments. There was no warning that when I said “bye” to my dad that Sunday that it was “bye” for the rest of my earthly life. There wasn’t time to tell him anything that I hadn’t already said because he was gone before I made it to the hospital. I don’t live my life in fear that I might unexpectedly lose someone else I love, but rather with a deeper awareness that I don’t know if I will. It makes me super grateful for the breaths I get to breathe and the people I get to love. It makes me say “I love you” more and study Marc’s, and our boys’, features more. It makes my life more rich and makes me pay closer attention to the life that I’m living and the legacy I’m creating. It isn’t about fear, it’s about paying attention to the gift that life is and choosing to live it well for the glory of God and the good of the people around me.

Also, if you ever see a sweet moment — like when my dad was holding my baby — and think, “I should take a picture” — TAKE THE PICTURE! It might be your last opportunity to do so and you can always delete it later if you get a better one, but if you miss your last opportunity — you likely won’t realize it until it’s too late.

Do you pay attention to the legacy you’re creating?

Song(s) of the Week: This week I chose “Reason for the World” by Matthew West. Enjoy!