It has been two months since I lost my daddy and had a miscarriage. Oddly enough, I've come to terms with the miscarriage. Because of another health issue I have(which is not life threatening, and totally fixable), it was best that nature took its course then before something worse happened further along in the pregnancy. Every morning, I do come to a new realization that my daddy is no longer on this Earth. It is a weird feeling because it is like I know he's gone, but every day that goes by that I don't receive a call or text from him, it's like a fresh reminder. It pains me deeply. That pain is very strong Sunday mornings. I usually start my Sunday's off leading my group run of Black Girls Run! ladies, come home, eat breakfast and clean a little bit. Then, I get myself and my son ready for church. My mind begins to float off, and I look at my phone. Prior to Sept 4, I would look forward to hearing from my dad via text or phone call, and he would tell me about how he was getting ready to go to church, too. I can't tell you how many times I still text his phone, looking at his old texts, and waiting for him to text me back. At church, I cry. I long for the message of the day to bring me peace, to help me to refocus on the life that I'm supposed to lead, and not the death of my dad. I feel like when I don't think about him, I will forget him and when I do think about him, I will remember him all to well. It is a perpetual cycle that I'm constantly talking and praying myself through. The chain has been hard to break.
As far as my fitness goals, well I'm on a mission to lose 10 lbs I gained through eating my way through grief and the miscarriage. I'm very grateful to my Sunday running group. I look forward to being around the positive energy these ladies bring around me every week. It helps me to have more reason to wake up on Sundays, the hardest day of the week for me. On October 28th, I began a 30 day challenge to eliminate most dairy, sweets, and caffeine in my life, and committed myself to working out consistently 5 days a week. I'm not working out as intense, because, to be honest, I just don't feel up to killing myself to stay in shape. I just want to feel good. I am training for my 3rd half marathon in December, but my goal is just to finish, and not to set a personal record. I feel kinda like an underachiever, but I'm just tired,emotionally and physically. I need to reboot but I haven't quite figured out how to. No matter how many runs I do, no matter how many pedicures I get, or how many times I go to church, the pain is still there. Yet, I keep pushing. I keep showing up and going through the motions until the wall falls down and the chains are broken. Sometimes, that is all we can do.
"Break Every Chain" by Tasha Cobb was one of my dad's favorite gospel songs. A lovely young lady led the song with the choir singing powerfully behind her at my dad's funeral. The lyrics go, "There is power in the name of Jesus...There is power in the name of Jesus...There is power in the name of Jesus, to break every chain, break every chain, break every chain." I'm not sure what this song meant to my dad personally, but for me it has meant that I have to press forward and cry out. At the moment I do feel bonded by grief, but the hold it has on me gets a little bit lighter when I seek God's presence. I know that some of my readers may not be very religious, or don't consider themselves spiritual. However trust that when you believe in someone higher than you, it gives you the power to move forward. I don't worry about what's going on in the world around me. Of course, I try to stay aware, but I can't worry about what I cannot change. I am working hard to not get stuck in a perpetual cycle of depression, because I am still living. I've got a calling and a purpose that is bigger than my grief. I have to remember that everything I've gone through is still fresh, and that my feelings are appropriate. The strength of my dad (and my mom, who is still here on Earth with me) runs through me. I will get through this period in my life.
The chains aren't broken, but they've loosened up!
