16 years...

16 years. That’s how long it’s been since my dad died. It was a Thursday in late March. The skies were threatening snow, potentially a lot of it. I had taken the boys to school and then hustled over to the hospital with little 3 yr old Grace to bring a gift to my brother and sister in law who had just welcomed their third, a baby girl! The snow was starting to fall thick and fast as I arrived and just as I was leaving the hospital I got the call that school was cancelled due to weather. I drove back to the school and picked up my boys who were 8 and 6 at the time and then made a quick stop at Safeway to buy some pizzas for dinner that night. The snow began to seriously accumulate as I made my way home to spend a cozy afternoon. Later in the day Daniel took the kids outside to sled while I got pizzas in the oven and just as they came in and pizzas were coming out I got a phone call from my mom. “Your dad is gone.” 

Just a few hours earlier dad had gone out to shovel the deepening snow so that he and mom could drive to Wendy’s for a burger. As she pulled into Wendy's drive thru dad suddenly slumped over next to her and she knew he was gone. She pulled out of the drive thru and drove straight to the hospital where she called me. Daniel and I left the kids with his parents and for the second time that day I made my way to the hospital. 8 hours earlier I had come to celebrate and welcome a new life and now I went to say goodbye to my dad. Life holds such strange moments. 

Dads death was a delineating line in my life. Up to that moment I hadn’t really experienced loss or grief of any substance. After his death it felt like the floodgates of hard things were thrown open. We would subsequently have to let go of our beautiful home in the foothills, our business, and pretty much all of life as we had known it. It was an incredibly hard stretch of road. At the time I didn’t know it would be one of many, I just knew the immediacy of that pain. 16 years later I can see how God used those first hard losses to teach me how to open my hand. To recognize that I have no control and to hold all things as loosely as I can by continually handing those I love and the comforts that can appear so solid back to God on repeat. It was my first really big lesson on loss and letting go, but by no means the last.