Taylor’s home!!! She got home around 3:30ish Friday morning. We talked for about an hour and then she retired and so did I…for an hour.
Taylor was very grateful that she had the opportunity to step away from reality for a while. She got to see the area of her favorite childhood sitcom, Full House, and take a picture in front the “Lady Fingers.” She walked the streets of where Psych was “supposedly” filmed, Santa Barbara (they actually did the majority of their filming in Canada), jump waves in the ocean, and let a waterfall cascade over her open fist (normal people would say “hand” but she’s been a little stressed lately).
She spent an evening and into the morning with strangers turned friends and watched the waves creep up the beach and crash at her feet. She said in the darkness and solitude she had a chance to listen to God. She was ready to come home.
Of course, the flight was anything but peaceful and the turmoil sent peace and perspective sailing to the back of her mind. Fear and obscurity took the front seat…but God was in control. At last she was home.
At lunch on Friday I tried calling to check on her, but only got her voicemail. I tried calling the home phone. Answering machine. Remember I talked about flashbacks?
My mind returned to Archie’s call,”Trace, can you come home? I’m having another panic attack.” (side effect of cancer/chemo). “ON MY WAY!” Heartfelt never made me choose…Archie always came first. He was gone in the eleven minutes it took me to get home.
I just needed to hear Taylor’s voice. After her trauma during the night, with the rapid heart rate (just like her dad), that’s all, just a voice. I have to admit, had anyone seen me, heart racing, and panic in MY eyes, they would have thought I had, “issues.” I do. It’s called grief. Thankfully, many, many repetitive phone calls later, she answered the phone weakly,”hello…?” Good enough for me,”just checking to make sure you’re ok.”
All was well. I went back to work and when I got home she told me of her adventures with big hand gestures and expression on her face and in her eyes, just like her dad. There were voices in the house again. The silence retreated into the shadows once more.
I had been blessed, while she was gone, to be extremely busy at work. there was very little time to think about silence or emptiness. This was definitely choreographed by my heavenly Dad, and I am grateful. Then night came…I’m not sure what happened.
It’s one of those flashback/grief issues. We made it through a traumatic experience. Once on the other side, other painful memories that held those same intense fear/sorrows emerged. I was again taken back to finding Archie, his last breath from my CPR, it was all real again and I sobbed, oh how I sobbed.
What I have been learning is to feel what needs to be felt. That was a painful event and I have the right to cry and it needs to be “cried out.” If I would have tried to “suck it up,” it would be waiting in the wings to pop out when I’m not prepared, so I leaned into the pain…and got to the other side. Once the intensity was over, I had to choose to think about where Archie is and how happy he is now. If I continue to dwell, purposefully focus, on this event, I will get stuck and loose the hope of seeing him again in heaven.
Sorry…rambling on there. That’s just my thought process. I am trying to use the tools Grief Share is attempting to equip me with.
Romans 8:18 “I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.”
When painful present events rip open wounds that are just beginning to scab over a bit, I CANNOT loose focus of the glory that is before me. Archie is pain free, with my heavenly dad. When it is my time to go home, he will be waiting with his Archie-only smile, saying,”Welcome home.”