The Last Year

New Year's Eve always makes me melancholic, but wow....this year.  I can barely stop the tears and it has been this way all day.  I've tried to keep Sophie busy which in turn keeps me busy, but every thought is about you.

This will be the last year.  The last year of "us".  The last year with you.  I must admit that it feels like this is the last year of my life right now. 

I know realistically that it isn't.  2018 will come in a few hours.  I'll get up, take care of things around the house, work on the business, care for the kids but it all feels kind of hollow right now.  I want so desperately to feel a different way.  I want to feel like me again, but I don't feel like me without you.

Remember when I said that I wouldn't know who I am without you?  You told me that idea was ridiculous.  That I was a mother, a daughter, a sister, a teacher, a leader...  I've thought about that a great deal.  I am those things, but your influence on each of those roles was what made me better.  A better mother by your example of fatherhood.  A better daughter as I saw your love for your mom and your encouragement of mine.  A better sister as you embraced my siblings as your own.  A better teacher because you were always there to cheer me on, celebrate, critique and help me think through things.  A better leader because you saw something in me that I rarely see in myself.

In retrospect I see your influence in my walk with God.  We never really seemed to get that whole family Bible study/prayer thing right, did we?  But what you taught me by example was that it was okay to question God, to have doubts, to ask questions some wouldn't ask.  It doesn't make you less.  It actually helps draw me closer to God as I realize that His love is the same whether I understand it or not.  You taught me that it's okay to be me.  You'll probably never realize the magnitude of that.

And now here I sit on New Year's Eve trying to wrap my mind around the idea that you're really gone and this is the last year.  The longing that I have to see you again, in a new year, in a place where you no longer struggle is intense.  I can't imagine the pain and misery of those that grieve without that hope.

I hope that in a year I will be able to look at this post and write more than just my pain.  I hope that I'll be writing to celebrate what God has done and to be so incredibly thankful that I'm one year closer to holding you in my arms again.