Loss

A thanksgiving letter to Dad

November 19, 2015

Dad,

I miss you.
Around Balboa Island a friend and I recently strolled. We passed men your age – some alone, some with spouses, some walking dogs – their chins tilted sunward.

That’s supposed to be you.
Retired.
With mom.
Enjoying the beach
and
you’re not here.

And I hate it.

For Halloween the boys dressed as pirates and Ty shared his snickers and you would have followed behind laughing and teasing, “Go grab extra Baby Ruth’s.”

I thought Halloween without you was hard, but now with dusk creeping early and chilled nights, I think of mom all alone in that big house and how you aren’t there to build her a fire or read close on the couch.

It seems to be this ache that never quite goes away.

Every time the fridge door opens for milk or string cheese, then shuts, I see your picture of our last Thanksgiving, you grinning with that big ‘ol carving knife in your hand, claiming honors on the roasted bird.

Could we have you back for just one more Thanksgiving? One more day to gather as a family to listen to whatever Manheim Steamroller CD you bought from Costco and sit near the hearth and catch up on life and tease mom?

There’s a block with Tanner recently, a timidness to pray, a wall that immediately builds any time we speak of God or church or prayer. And I can’t help but wonder if he’s mad or thinks God took you too soon.

And I want to call you and talk about it. I want you to pick him up from school and over yogurt, tell him it’s going to be okay. That God is not a taker, but a giver.

There have been more times this November, since, well, months really, that I’ve so wanted to hear your voice. I felt stuck about this book title and yearned for your advice. I longed to heave our shoulders together, laughing over cherry cokes. I noticed Tanner’s long legs and couldn’t help but think they were like yours as a young boy, and the tears come quick.

Funny how months can go by and your absence seems talkable and manageable and “over there.” But this week, gosh, I just miss you.

And I’m so very grateful for the Thanksgivings we did have.

Love you,
Bekah jane


For encouraging, hope-filled posts about grief surrounding the holidays, I’m loving these:

Just…breathe | Revealing the Story

A Prayer For Those Who Are Grieving | emily p. freeman

when you’re desperately looking for grace in the midst of hard places | A Holy Experience

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8 Comments

  • Reply Jules November 19, 2015 at 8:59 pm

    Bekah, this is so moving. I’m in tears over how how your words can capture it and also because I know- as gifted as you are with words- that your aches and longings go so much deeper than description. I love you and am praying for your daughter heart much this week.

    • Reply bekah November 23, 2015 at 3:14 am

      Thanks Jules. Your intuition is a God-given gift. Prayers back at ya!

  • Reply Lori November 19, 2015 at 11:11 pm

    Yes. To all of it. Even 15 years in. Love you.

    • Reply bekah November 23, 2015 at 3:14 am

      Lori, I adore you. Hugs!

  • Reply Pam Lane November 20, 2015 at 5:00 am

    Thank you for being honest. Thank you for sharing your heart.. Thank you for reminding us to show love and enjoy those we get to share life with. You are an amazing young lady.. Your Daddy left prints all over you, and now you share some of those with us. Love you Friend.. xoxoxoxo

    • Reply bekah November 23, 2015 at 3:13 am

      Oh Pam, I heart you! How thankful I am for his fingerprints. You leave profound ones in your path too. Love you!

  • Reply Chelsea Rotunno November 20, 2015 at 8:20 am

    Dear Bekah, This letter is so beautiful and honest and real. It sure did make me cry. I hope you can soak in many good memories this Thanksgiving. I am so glad that I subscribed to your blog, and I would love to keep in touch. God bless you and your sweet family. love, Chelsea

    • Reply bekah November 23, 2015 at 3:13 am

      Chelsea, so fun to hear from you! Thank you for your kind words, and yes, it’s going to be a great Thanksgiving – however it unfolds. Praying you have a beautiful one with your incredible family. So glad we can keep in touch. xo

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