Two Years Ago

This entire week I’ve tried to put into words something profound, something elegant, some sort of tribute, some simple words of adoration…just something.

And words have failed me miserably.

I wanted to commemorate this week with strength and resilience. I wanted to walk through it gracefully. I hoped to have the ability to keep my head held high. My goal was to be able to smile genuinely. I wanted to be a source of strength for those around me, for my family, who I know is also facing the same heartache that I am facing.

My red, puffy eyes are probably proof enough that none of my plans panned out as I’d hoped.

Yes, I am strong; it’s something I like to think I learned from my dad… But now, more so than ever, I’m also strong enough to know when to admit weakness, to accept defeat. This week has pummeled me something fierce. Though I’m not choosing to sit and wallow in my grief, I’m having a hard time thwarting the waves of it that keep returning, crashing, ebbing and flowing, from moment to moment. Staying afloat has become my goal, nothing more, not at this moment.

Two years ago tomorrow, too many years ago, I said goodbye to my dad.

I miss him.

My dad, Gary Trucke, on a trip with our family to the Oregon coast 2000...

My dad, Gary Trucke, on a trip with our family to the Oregon coast 2000…

Though I will always, forever treasure the times we shared together, I can’t help but wish we’d all had just a few moments more with my dad.

I recognize the pain of missing my dad will never cease, though it may lessen with time. I still have to face the reality that, my moments with my dad cannot be relived, and new ones cannot be created. Such a painful thing to acknowledge. That being said, it doesn’t mean that I can’t turn something agonizing into something invaluable. I’ve decided I will choose to use this grief as a reminder, a catalyst, to not get caught up in the things of this world that truly do not matter.

Tonight, tomorrow, the next day, and hopefully for the many days to come, I’m going to hug my family a little tighter. I’m going to ignore devices that beg for attention, beg to distract me. I’m going to let the laundry wait in the hamper, I’m going to let the dishes sit in the sink. Instead I’m going to seek out making moments, making memories, making the people in my life a priority. Not work, not things, not stuff, people.

People are what matter most in life. That is a belief I know my dad held, as his life reflected it. It’s also something I know both he and my mom aimed to instill in me, and for that I am thankful.

Time is short. Let’s all choose to love harder, live fuller and make every moment count.

2 thoughts on “Two Years Ago

  1. It’s been almost four years since my mom died, and it’s taken much of that to reach the point where I feel my mom in most moments without thinking myself through to it. And even so, as March 4th nears, I know I will fall backward and remember when my mom stopped being able to make new memories. I hope you feel your dad in those hugs and all the love.

    1. It’s incredible how time can pass, years even, then a little moment, a special day, can spark grief as though it’s only been a day. I’m so sorry to hear of the loss of your mom, and hope that, as March 4th nears, you can find comfort in joyful memories of her.

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