Merry Christmas

I know I’ve been very good at cataloguing the grief during this Year of Loss.  Much to my surprise, Christmas has come anyway and so I’m going to list the GIFTS of 2017.

Angels.  I SAW the angels come down and carry my Warrior Father to Valhalla.  I SAW them all covered in the Shekinah glory of God.  Not everyone gets that experience.  Although it’s messed me up a little bit (psychologically), I am so So SO grateful.  For all of my words, I still believe in my heart of hearts that I am somehow exempt from grace because of my “sins.”  I finally realized God doesn’t reveal Himself like that to just *anyone*.

He really is close to the broken-hearted.

Cher.  What more needs to be said?

God really is close to the broken-hearted.

Friendship.  I became convinced the world was going to end when my Dad passed, especially after The Bank started running their game.  I’ve never felt like I had nowhere to turn and those were dark days, realizing it really is a cold, cruel world and no one actually cares about my situation, even the people who are being paid quite well to do so.  I didn’t know what to do without my best friend and confidant.

But then angels started to surround me and kept surrounding me until I lifted the heavy veil of grief and saw them.  I have solid friends today that I did not have when this year began.  I accept that nothing will ever replace what I had and, if I were honest with myself, I don’t want a replacement.  What I really want is to stop hurting.  My friends help with that Every. Single. Day.  

Just like my Dad would.

God really is close to the broken-hearted.

Kitties!  I guess I really AM a weird Cat Lady.  By September, the number of funerals I attended grew uncomfortably and my grip on Life was weakening.  I’ll never forget the stormy afternoon Gypsy appeared CRYING at my back door.  Eight days later, Equinox was born in my bedroom closet.  What more proof of life do I need? 

God really is close to the broken-hearted.

Mommy.  I got to hug my Mama in one of her favorite places (the Dollar Store!) and tell her how much I miss her.

God really is close to the broken-hearted.

Random Acts of Kindness.  I’ll never forget the afternoon I wandered into a local establishment, wanting a pizza after a difficult session at Verizon closing my Dad’s account and putting my phone in my name.  Rosa (now a friend) at Verizon was perfectly lovely, but emotionally, I was spent.  I went next door to get a pizza (pizza makes everything better, right?) and go home.  My eyes were leaking and the young man who rang me up asked me if I was all right.  I explained.  His eyes welled up, too, and, as he handed me my pizza, he said, “This in on the house.  I’m so sorry for your loss.”

I can’t tell you how many coffees and treats and cocktails and groceries and pretty little shiny things “strangers” have bestowed upon me.  I can complain pretty hard about Salem, Oregon, but it really showed me its best this year.  (Now if it would just start snowing!)

God really is close to the brokenhearted.

Steak Dinner.  The Knight treated me to a steak dinner from over 1,000 miles away.

God really is close to the broken-hearted.

Strength.  There ain’t no grit-builder like pulling the plug on your True Love.

2017, I don’t ever want to see you again.  You were so much worse than 2012 and 2013 put together.  However, you did teach me that I can survive ANYTHING, and that’s a gift for which I am very grateful. 

Merry Christmas, Life.  I’m going to give you another chance.