This Valentine’s Day is for Saying Goodbye to Loved Ones

Well, it certainly hasn’t been a traditional Valentine’s Day.  We had to say goodbye to a dear family friend.  Funerals and Valentine’s Day usually don’t mix.  But our pastor reminded us that on a day of love, it is very fitting to celebrate the life of one we loved.

And so it begins…

The holiday season.

Many of you have been looking forward to the holidays.  Thoughts of turkeys roasting, pies baking, shopping madness, and time spent with family and friends have you filled with nostalgic happiness.

I normally am a big fan of the holidays.  But I’ve been dreading this particular holiday season for quite some time now.  And now here it is upon us and I’m not sure how I feel.

Please Don’t Tell Us to Get Over It

Since I began this journey of writing and sharing my story, I have met many wonderful survivors online.  They are a huge support network for me and I am grateful for every one of them.  The other day, one posted that people she cared about kept telling her that she just “needed to get over it”.  Many of the other survivors spoke up and said that they, too, had received this kind of comment.

I am not sure what people are thinking when they make this kind of statement to a victim of rape and trauma.  They may truly be coming from a place of caring, and simply are expressing their desire to see you feeling better.  But more likely, it comes from a complete lack of understanding of how this event can penetrate you to the core.  It goes down deep in your soul.  It’s not a physical injury that can heal in a matter of weeks or months.

Father’s Day Cookies

I’m making a batch of angry cookies.  They’re in the oven right now, and frankly it pisses me off.

Oh, they’re chocolatey and gooey, and I’m sure they’re delicious.  But they’re making me really mad.

They’re Father’s Day cookies, for my husband’s father.  It was Hubby’s idea.  It seemed like a nice idea at the time.  So, I began assembling the ingredients.  I took out the eggs and slammed the refrigerator.  I got down the flour and slammed the cupboard door.  The poor eggs took quite a beating and I grumbled as I carefully picked eggshells out of the dough.  I yanked open the chocolate chips and burst into tears.

There are no words…

My dear readers, I have been gone a very long time. I spent November happily writing away at my novel. Then December came. With the winter weather, came a long struggle for our family. My father was critically ill. All through December, I watched this strong man wither and grow weaker by the day. He fought so very hard. But sadly, he lost his battle two weeks ago.

There are no words that can express how it feels to lose a parent. There are no words to fill the empty place in my heart.