Motherhood Moments

It's the 22nd of July, and life - for all practical purposes - is in our full normal. Travel basketball season is coming to an end. Summer is just over halfway through. Family vacations are just around the corner. Yet, really, life isn't normal. Not the old normal. If it were, I'd be able to stop in at my parents' on a weekday morning and find my Dad enjoying the Price is Right. Or he'd be sitting in his lawnchair in the garage watching the cars go by. I'd sometimes get his voice on the other end of the line when I called their number. Most days, my grief has come to a place where I can think of and talk about him with no tears. But some days - like today - it feels so incredibly raw once again. It doesn't help that I've had dreams about him the last two days. Or that we keep singing "Good Father" in church (Seriously - it even got one of the pre-schoolers in our VBS group bawling last night. Can we stop singing that song soon, please?! N

I'm blogging today because my heart hurts. It was 8 weeks ago yesterday that Dad took his last breath (1/6/16). I've noticed lately that my grief strikes me more frequently again. And when it does, it hits hard. Dave and I created a slideshow of Dad's life - which was a complete labor of love. We began work on it long before Dad entered Hospice - trying to be ready for when the time came. Even though it was time-consuming...I'm so thankful we made it. It's been such a blessing. First, to be able to share it with others. But now, to be able to watch. To remember. To see him.  (Click here to watch.) For several days I've been wanting to watch the slideshow again. But, because I was never alone, I kept putting it off. Putting off the emotions. The tears. Knowing that as soon as I hit play, those tears were going to flood. But just now - while the kids are gone to PTC and it's just me and the dog - I watched it. And I cried. And I cried. And I cried. And I&#