back when there was hope...

A year ago... seems like a lifetime ago... it wasn't...

Back then a year ago today there was still hope.  We were simply waiting with baited breath for a hospital in Little Rock to have the right bed, at the right hospital with the right doctor to have an opening before it was too late.

A year ago in the morning, it looked like it would happen.

And then it didn't.

A year ago tonight the hopelessness was starting to sink in.  Daddy had been in an induced coma state with his chest held open for far too long.  We all knew it.  We could feel it. We were starting to snarl at each other, simply out of broken hearts.  None of us could bear what was happening.  Knowing that before long the battle to recover would be too much.  He couldn't come back from it.  We knew it.

But a year ago, we were still praying and hopeful.

As this weekend started I knew it was going to be tough.  In fairness I warned my staff team that I was not sure how I would be doing on Monday.  That I wasn't even sure at this point that my heart was anymore ready for the one year anniversary than it was for that morning just over a year ago.

I'm struggling.

HARD.

One of the dearest people I have met in a long time said "you aren't going to spend the weekend in a dark place are you"?  I'm trying not to.  I'm trying to think of a way to celebrate my father's life and memory on Monday.  Yet... right now, I can't think of one.

I don't want to spend a day crying my eyes out.  With my own heart raw and hurting.  I want to celebrate the almost 75 years he was here.  I want to celebrate the good times.  And I am fighting against the pain.  I don't know where I am going to end up.

This morning curled up in my blue chair in front of my fireplace I was lost in thought. I had a crochet needle in my hand the final rows on the baby afghan I was working on were keeping my hands busy while my mind kept repeating the words I am typing now.

The fire slowing dying down, embers snapping and quivering in it's final moments.  My mind still spinning in circles.  One minute planning the blankets that still waited for my attention, the next following my eyes as they rested on my spinning wheel the beautiful caramel alpaca wool still waiting for me to finish spinning it, wondering when I could find the time to finish.

I'm alternating between fear and a manic need to open Facebook as my sisters are starting to post more pictures of him.  I crave them as much as I dread them.  The pain is sharp and brutal.  I'm so hungry for the memories, I want to hear his name and see his face.

Nope, I'm not going into that dark place yet.  Although, I am making no promises.  Last night at dinner  Hubs and I enjoyed the company of our daughter and the youngest grand baby. My heart was full.  My Dad adored her.  She could make him laugh and smile at the worst times.  It simply fills my heart with love that she insists on calling Hubs Papa.  That is what my Dad always liked to be called.  I think she channels him.

Well... Hope didn't help a year ago.  Tonight, a nice glass of wine and crocheting for other's are helping to keep me from where I do not want to go... We will see what the rest of the weekend brings, besides snow.