When I think of the word anniversary.. I think happy things, Like the day I married my amazing husband, or some other joyous Occasion. But what I dont understand is why they also associate it with unhappy occasions.. Like "the anniversary of 911" Or the anniversary of a loved ones death. These are not reasons to celebrate?
I bring this up for good reason. I rarely ever talk about the traumatic things in my past because it makes people uncomfortable and pity me. Thats the last thing I want from people so I just dont bring it up. And the terrible things that have happened to me.. Pardon the cliche, but have helped me grow stronger. I am not bitter at all, and in fact I embrace those moments as pieces to the puzzle that make me me.
So the reason for this post is, 7 years ago on this day my father was shot by his wife(not the woman who gave birth to me) I was on vacation with my then Fiancee Dustin and got the worse phone call I think I could ever have even imagined. It was my grandmother(My dads mother) Telling me the news. We did not know the condition or the circumstance. Dustin and I jumped in the car and drove to Dallas in the middle of the night to meet my grandmother. She and I boarded a plane to Nashville to see my dad in the hospital. His condition was not encouraging but one of the most profound moments in my life was when I entered the trauma room where my father was and saw that tiny band aide over his left eye and saw him lying there.. I reached down, grabbed his hand and whispered in his ear that I was there and that I loved him. He squeezed my hand and raised his legs. I felt a peace come over me. It was as if he knew I was coming and didnt want to let go until i got there. He held on for me.
30 minutes later they told us that he was brain dead and they would have to remove him from life support. I have never felt sicker. It felt like my stomach had been tied in a thousand knots and then set on fire then doused with alcohol. It was the worst feeling. I hadnt had all the time I wanted with my father, I was only 21. I was about to get married and I wanted him to walk me down the isle. This was ripped from my future by a very small bullet.
It seems the pain gets easier to deal with each year. And I have forgiven the woman that did this to my family. That took my father away from me, A son away from my grandmother, a grandfather away from my children. Because I know that when it is her time.. God will be the one to Judge. It is not my job to do so. And I am a firm believer that everything happens for a reason.. And though we may not know those reasons, understand them or even agree with them, it is Gods will and he knows what and why he does things.
This day is always a difficult one for me. I look at my children and wish that their grandfather could see them. He would be so proud. And I know he is up in heaven smiling and laughing at his goofy grandbabies.