3 years.
That’s 1000 mornings of waking up and knowing you and I won’t get to interact.
That’s 1000 sunsets hoping I’m one day closer to seeing you again.
It really is hard to fathom that it’s been that long since you passed. Honestly, it wouldn’t take much convincing to make me believe it’s only been two years. Three years just seems like too many days without you.
(Then again, I’m the same guy who was convinced he was three years from 50 back in September, when it was only my 46th birthday. I spent the entire month telling people I was about to turn 47, until I realized the night before my birthday that I was wrong. You would have laughed and made fun of me for that, I’m sure, but not in a mean way, because you never had that in you.)
Anyway, maybe I’m not the best guy to judge the passing of time, but I’ll stand by what I said: three years just seems too long.
It’s easy to get sad thinking about that, because that number is only going to grow. Next year will be four without you, and a month later we’ll pass the 21st birthday you never got to see.
The year after that will be five years, and well, you get the point. If we’re blessed to live long enough to keep seeing all of these milestones, they will all be hard.
The thing about our grieving journey, though, is that we continue to heal in ways that I really think you would love. We miss you deeply all the time, yet, on most days we’re not just surviving, but thriving.
We’re thriving because we’ve experienced 1000 days of the love of family and friends who have prayed for us, given to us, sat with us, cried with us, laughed with us, and have made us feel loved and cared for and special and normal in so many ways.
We’re thriving because we’ve experienced 1000 days of God’s presence in the darkest of valleys and on the mountain peaks and everywhere in between.
We’re thriving because we have a hope that this world is more than what we can see in the natural, and that the faith you had in Jesus and the faith that we have in Jesus will continue to anchor our souls and that he won’t let us go for the next 1000 days and the next 1000 after that.
Today is not a day for thriving, though. At least not for me. Today is a day to survive, and by God’s grace we will.
We miss you so much Parker, and while we are confident that you knew just how much you were loved, we still wish we could tell you we love you one more time. Or maybe 1000 more times.
I’m not an expert on the logistics of heaven, but hopefully some day we will get that chance.
In the meantime, we will survive the hard days and choose to thrive on the other days, and be grateful for the time we had with you. And we will never stop praising the God who has provided us with the love of family, the love of friends, and the peace of his presence through these last 1000 days and beyond.
Love, your dad
A P.S. for the readers…
Erica and I have been enjoying this song, Anyway by Benjamin Hastings, so I thought I’d share it, along with some of the lyrics. Thanks so much for reading.
I will trust in Your intentions Even through my question marks
So I don’t need to know the answers Because I know the one who does
You’ve been God for a while So the wisdom of time Says You always know best
So whatever befalls Whatever You want Your will is worth the test
When it’s yes, or no, or wait I’m gonna praise You anyway
Highlight, heartbreak I’m gonna praise You anyway
When the sky is blue When it pours with rain In the promise and the pain
Oh to me it’s all the same I’m gonna praise You anyway
Cause Your heart is for me And it always will be
I won’t doubt the plan Cause that’s not my place
I just take my song, praise You anyways
Cause Your always worthy And You always will be
I won’t doubt the plan Cause that’s not my place
I just take my song, praise You anyways