One Year

What a difference a year makes. As I was drinking my coffee this morning I was scrolling through Time Hop like I do quite frequently. This screen shot from one year ago came up and my heart just sank.

Three new cases of COVID in Oklahoma, bringing the total to 7 in our state. 7. Today, there have been 432,793 confirmed cases in our state. In just one year it went from 7 to over 400,000 and close to 5,000 deaths. No, that number does not seem high compared to Oklahoma's population or even the amount of people who have tested positive. But as I have said before and will continue to say, EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. OF. THOSE. LIVES. MATTERED. Most of them could have even been prevented. Even if you haven't been directly affected, those people were someone's loved ones, their world, their everything. I had no idea what this year was going to bring and how much it was going to change my life. I don't think any of us did.

This just kind of added to an already difficult and emotional week for me. I have been missing my dad so much. I was able to look through some of his work things and get a glimpse of what he did everyday. Even though I knew what his job was, seeing his things gave me a little more insight to what his daily life away from home was like. That was comforting, but also extremely emotional seeing some of the things that were clearly so important to him like family pictures and cards that he kept that had been sent to him from us.

Last week I was also able to get my second COVID vaccination. It was so bittersweet. I am so incredibly thankful that my family and I were able to receive the vaccination. I feel a little more comfortable hugging my mom and my other family members that I haven't gotten to hug or grieve with. However, I couldn't help but think it had only been 3 months since my dad passed away. 3 months. 3 more months and he could have been with us getting that vaccination. He would be here with my mom at their house and planning trips, playing with my boys, calling and texting us everyday, giving me one of his famous hugs when I'm having a horrible day. Calling just to tell me he loved me and was proud of me. I have thought a lot lately about how quickly things can change and how precious life is. Although right now I am stuck deep in grief, anger, sadness, and depression, I have tried to be intentional about making sure those I love know how I feel about them. My dad never let anything go unsaid and I want to be like that to my kids, husband, friends, and family.

This week and these thoughts kind of sent me down a rabbit hole of looking at pictures and videos and just thinking about what else has changed in the last year. I called my aunt at one point this week in the middle of a breakdown and I think she described it best when she said "we just feel cheated". Cheated out of what could have been. Cheated out of everyday activities that seemed insignificant at the time but mean the world to us now. Cheated out of the last year that we had with my dad that was from a distance to keep each other safe. I found this picture of our family on Thanksgiving of 2019.

I honestly don't remember ever taking a family picture on any other Thanksgiving, and I remember my dad being adamant about taking this one. I sure as heck didn't think this would be our last one. The last picture I have of my dad is from Thanksgiving of 2020. I'm obviously not going to share it as I'm really not even sure why I took the picture other than I knew it was the last time I was going to see him alive on this earth. It is heartbreaking. Instead of recreating the family picture above with our growing family, we spent Thanksgiving suiting up in the hospital and telling my dad goodbye without him able to respond and give us a little bit of closure. (However, I know that we are incredibly blessed that we were able to get in and say goodbye to him, as so many others don't get that opportunity and I do not take that lightly at all.) One short year between the above picture and that. It doesn't seem real or possible that just a year could make that much of a difference. Especially with someone who was always so enthusiastic and full of life, and now he's just gone.

So much else has changed in the past year. We still wear masks around anyone who doesn't live in our house to try to continue to protect each other. There have been arguments and hurtful things said about the state of the world right now and how things are being handled. It has torn families and friends apart. While I clearly have a strong opinion on this subject, I know that others are entitled to theirs as well. But as someone who has been so closely affected by it, I truly appreciate the friends and family that I have that have differing opinions and are still able to not be insensitive but be civil and loving towards me when my family and I have needed it the most. My son has been in and out of school and therapies that he so desperately needs. We have had to make some really difficult decisions within our family. I have spiraled deep into depression and have constant anxiety to the point of physically making me sick and ending up in the ER multiple times. We added another ornery little boy to our family. I thank God my dad got to meet him, but cry often because there's so much new stuff going on with Logan and Luke that I so badly want to share with my dad and I can't. He was everyone's biggest cheerleader. I always knew that, but it is something that I have really noticed has been a huge void in my life since he passed away. It also breaks my heart because he was Luke's biggest cheerleader too. He cheered him on, was ecstatic anytime he hit a new milestone, was so incredibly patient with him, asked questions and tried to understand all of his medical issues, was there for every surgery, supported Caleb and I during some of the hardest times of our life, and was just the best, most loving Grandpa. As most of the time when I write, I don't really have a strong ending or clear point to make after my ramblings. So I will share two pictures from today. Maybe next year when they pop up on Time Hop I will be able to smile. Look back on this extremely difficult time and be proud of myself and thankful for the strength (and hopefully peace) God has given to me to be at a better place than I am now. Tell your loved ones you love them. Take pictures and videos. Leave voicemails. Even if it feels silly. I promise you will not regret it. Although these things often make me sad and cry, I am so incredibly thankful I have pictures, videos, and voicemails from my dad because I know someday, maybe even just a year from now, I will be able to look at and listen to them and smile more than I cry.