My First Heartbreak

                                    

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heartbreak                    

noun heart·break \ ˈhärt-ˌbrāk \ :crushing grief, anguish, or distress

He was funny, handsome, kind and God-fearing.He was the best guy a girl could have asked to do life with. But one Sunday evening, all of that ended abruptly. Life as I knew it would never be the same again. Devastated wasn't even the word.When I got the news, it created the deepest hole in my heart that I knew would never be filled again.

The only man that I had ever loved up until that point in my life was no longer going to be in it. Who was going to walk me down the aisle on my wedding day? Who was I going to ask for advice about boys, God, or life? He walked with me up until I was 14 years old and now I had to finish the rest of this journey without him.

Never in a million years would I have thought that this would have happened to me, nobody ever does. This happens to your neighbors, people on TV, friends and even extended family members but not to us. I was blind sided.I just saw him less than 24 hours ago and now this.

It was bittersweet getting the news of his death. Bitter for obvious reasons and sweet because I had a cool story to tell about how he died. He  collapsed and had a heart attack while preaching a sermon at a Sunday Night service at a local church.

Even though the hospital was only a few blocks away my father's life ended that night at the age of 47. I take comfort in knowing that he died doing what he loved the most.

A couple days after while at home, I remember staring up at the steps of our townhome hoping that he would come walking down from upstairs but he never did. Several weeks after, I couldn't help but think “why was the entire world still going on with life despite him not being in it”.It may have been an ignorant statement to make but I really didn't have any understanding of what should’ve happened after his death.

All I knew is that no one knew how I felt even if you had lost a parent too, you didn't have the same experiences I had or had the same dad. No one else could relate.

There was nothing anyone could have said to make my family and I feel better because at the end of the day he wasn't coming back.  Even though people meant well when expressing to us their grievance; there still wasn’t enough “I’m sorries” in the world that could have pulled us out of the black hole we found ourselves in, they seemed pointless. The only response I could muster up for them was "It's OK" although we all knew it really wasn't.

My family handled it the best way we knew how. Living life as normal as we could with one less person in our family. We ended up going through grief therapy thanks to my mom. I think that was one of the best things we could've done as a family to cope with the loss of my father.

I would never judge anyone for seeing a therapist, (been there, done that). Therapy, people and a handful of other progressive activities really helped me get through and survive those difficult times.

Over a decade has passed since his death and a lot has happened since then. I honestly can say that time does heal all wounds, at least the giant hole in my heart has shrunken considerably.

There is not a day that goes by that I don't think of him.Often times, it still feels like just yesterday when I got the bad news.I wonder what kind of woman I would've been if he were here and what choices would I have made differently?

My father left behind an awesome example of how to be a stand-up father, husband and a Christian. I am beyond blessed to call him my father. I am grateful to literally be half of who he was and I'm a better person for it.

We have all experienced brokenness at some point or another where we feel hopeless,helpless, weak,desperate,unloved and maybe even to the point of no return. Just know that you too can still color beautifully even after being broken.