Grief has become tangible

Five days after I started this blog-thing back in January, my father was admitted to the hospital with respitory issues and general confusion.

One week later, I was holding his hand as he took his final breath.

Sixty-four days since then, and there is a hole in my heart that I have no idea what to do with.

Dad and I didn't have the greatest relationship. We never played catch when I was young. He never gave me "the sex talk." We argued more often than not and I can count on one hand the times I remember us saying we loved each other out loud. I remember his cursing and his yelling more than his kindness or his compassion.

Mom loved him and stayed by his side in marriage for 34 years. Through all of the anger and hurt and the yelling and the hard times, they stuck by each other. I can never deny my dad loved my mom. He just showed that in a very unique and individual way.

Life has been a whirlwind since then. Some days, it feel like life is out of control and is spinning in some kind of wildly insane loopty-loop. Some days, it's almost normal again. Almost.

I learned a lot from my dad, regardless of what our relationship was like.

Maybe soon, I'll be able to write about it. For now, Romans 8:28 has been coming up a lot in conversations, in church, during sermons and messages. It says that God works all things out for the good of anyone who loves Him.

It blows my mind, because there's nothing that seems good about this whole situation. My dad is gone and will never come back. Death isn't good. It doesn't belong in a world that revolves around God and is controlled by Him. It's from hell and it's Satans area of expertise.

I guess at some point, my understanding of God working things out for my good will be completely wrecked and blown wide open.

I'm so excited for that.