Happy Retirement, Dad.

Happy Retirement, Dad.

That's what today's post should be about. I should be planning a party with all of his closest friends. I should be watching my mom search every inch of the internet to decide on which vacation they want to take first. I should be watching my kids run into his arms as he promises them more time with them now that he is done working. 

He set a daily countdown on his phone to remind himself how many days were left until he retired. The countdown is over and he's not here to celebrate and that just seems so unfair. 

I'm sad. Angry. Frustrated. 

This was a day meant for him. He worked too damn hard to not be here for it. 

I visited my mom this morning and she said my Dad's phone reminded her yesterday that it was his last day of work and today he was retired. Every second she's surrounded by the ghost of him. This day seems to sting more than the rest. Today was supposed to be a long awaited celebration. 

Dad worked in Avionics. Some days he was almost too smart to function. His meticulous accuracy drove people crazy sometimes. But he always prided himself on doing things the right way. 

There was nothing he wouldn't do when it came to fixing, solving, or repairing. The only time I ever heard my mom say he couldn't do something was when he had prostate cancer. The radiation was just too much for his body. But despite that period in his life, he still went to work, everyday. He survived it. 

"When I retire...."

He started a sentence with those words more times than I could count. He was going to wait, to finish that project, make that visit, start that hobby, get that medical marijuana license. 

He sacrificed so much time away from family when we were kids, doesn't that somehow grant him more time? 

I always wondered what his life was like when he traveled overseas. He would call from Jordan when we were younger and he'd talk about bombs in the distance. His beard would be long and scruffy but his eyes would still shine when he talked to us. 

The friendships he built across countries became permanent relationships. I remember he and my mom visiting Jordan and staying with native friends. His love and connection to others is something I'll miss until I see him again on the other side. 

He should be here, soaking up that love—gloating that he will never have to return to work again. 

How is it possible that you go your whole life working for that one moment, that next chapter, and you don't get to be around for it?

I started to do some research on my paternal grandmother, "Rose," as we called her. Today is her birthday. For the first time in 16 years, my Dad can celebrate her birthday with her. They are together. That is the only joy that I can find in this moment. Also, to my surprise, Grandma Rose died only one day before Dad did, July 30, 2006. Dad's death date was July 31, 2022. 

On most days, I thank God. I'm so grateful for the days I did have. The family, friends and love I experience. But today, I feel like my Dad, Mom, Sister and his grandkids were all robbed. 

This was the milestone that gut punched the hardest. We've survived my son's birthday, nephew's birthday, Thanksgiving, his birthday, Christmas, my daughter's birthday and New Year's Day all within the 5 months he's been gone. But his retirement day? It barely seems survivable without him.

This is your reminder: If you are saving all your time, money, and travel for when you retire, consider the fact that you may never get to see that day. Take the trip, make the call, start the project, and tell the people who mean something to you, that you love them. 

I want to send a special thank you to my husband and friends who have been there today. Especially my friend Clancy, who didn't know the significance of this day, but had planned a spa day for me just because. 

If you are going through a day where you are just angry, questioning everything, I see you. Let's pray for a better tomorrow.

Heavenly Father,

I am angry. I am confused. Why must life be so hard to bear some days? I've never known loss and grief more than I have right now. I know you have a plan and I have a purpose. But right now, I am not accepting of the plan. I pray to you that you restore my faith. Restore my broken heart and pick me up into your arms–I am in pieces. Please. Show mercy. Give me an opportunity to find solitude and to spend more time deepening my relationship with you. I am looking to you to show me the way, Lord. In your book it says you will wipe my tears, you weep with me, you hear my prayers, and that your are close to those who are crushed in spirit. My spirit is very much crushed today. I pray that when I wake in the morning I find joy and peace that surpasses all understanding. It's in your precious son's name.

Amen