Dear Dad Pt 1

Dear Dad,

It’s been a while. Five years creep around the corner and I find you slipping into my brain more and more frequently. That mostly has to do with my recent journey, though. When you died there seemed only one option. That was to dive head first into my work with the hope that it could somehow make you proud, or just make it all go away. It was either that, or disappear myself. Not in a way to cause self-harm, but to travel, leave, escape; Anything to avoid the discomfort of staying in the place that caused me the most pain. I chose the former—still escapism.

Four years passed and I followed the same pattern. Work became my life and to be honest I considered anyone who lacked that perspective to be lazy. Some of my closest friends had shared with me that their goal in life was to find a way not to work. This was hard for me to fathom at the time because work was the focal point of my world. While it was often a great stressor, simultaneously it was my most convenient distraction. The pressure and frustration of work could never surmount the pain caused by losing you. Not to mention, work was at the center of everything you taught me to do. Since I was little, I always wanted to emulate your natrual drive. You were the hardest worker I have ever known and it was expected of me in return.

When I made the shift into the van, I did not know it would conjure up the depth of emotion that quickly surfaced. I thought living in a van would be all fun and games. But day one came and I didn’t even make it to the dam in Big Bear before all of my heartache appeared in my lap.

I cried – hard.

Once I had no job to focus my mind on, there was nowhere to hide. I hadn’t consciously chosen to avoid the pain before, it just seemed as if it were out of sight, out of mind. Now I can see that it had just burrowed deeper; into the fabric of my being.

Over a year has come and gone since that day leaving Big Bear and your loss is still working its way through my mind, heart, and spirit. I imagine I have a long way to go. I’ve discovered that there is nothing like a long drive alone to summon these emotions straight to the surface. It is my driving meditation, where my brain is just distracted enough to the point that my inner feelings can worm their way out. Oof, it’ll get me every time.

I wish I had some sort of great insight to share about navigating loss. I don’t. That is mainly because each of us has our own process to sort out. I found out that I was allowing my pain to sink deeper while trying to focus on something I had believed to be positive, work. While I am still a firm believer in hard work, dedication, commitment, passion, and sticking through the hard times, I have now seen another side of life that is much simpler. Of course, we can’t all simultaneously quit our jobs and frolic around the world without a care. BUT I can say with confidence that there is a lot more to life than one’s job. It makes me deeply sad to think of how many people believe their job defines them– whether they consider that association to be positive or negative. Some of the most incredible people I have met along the way have no job to identify themselves with. That, or they have had many odd jobs. To tell you the truth, I believe that they might have it more figured out than the rest of us. Truer happiness is discovered when we are living our lives in a way that fulfills our hearts.

For whatever it’s worth, I hope more of us will take some time to consider what brings our hearts joy. May sound cheesy, but it’s important. I know I need to be outside. I need to be alone sometimes. I need a sense of community, always. I need projects. I need water nearby. I need adventure. I need mountains. I need challenge. I need positive people. I need snuggles. Most importantly, I know my life needs to be more than my job, my relationship, or any one aspect of it.

While I write, I am watching a young boy sit at a river’s edge skipping rocks. There is no cell phone service here. There is no one to impress or any digital distraction. Just a boy, a river, and trees all around him. I can’t help but to pause, take a deep breath, and feel grateful for this moment and this space I am able to enjoy. Soon I will find myself in a classroom again, surrounded by wonderful children who I am so excited to meet. The only difference now is that I will not forget all that I have learned during this year. My whole heart can still go to the kids, without allowing it to consume the entirety of my life. Moving forward I will make it a point to check in with and to check myself when I am off course.

I cannot make any promises of what my future holds. How could I possibly know what will be best for me in one year, five years, or twenty? While losing you has been my greatest challenge yet, it has forced me to really consider what it means to live. Planning ahead has its place in life, but when I am really living, there isn’t a perfect plan prepared. It all falls into place.

Dad, I hope that you are quietly smirking as you read this. Nearly five years have passed and my whole core aches when I think of how much I miss you. I am overcome with compassion for you and appreciation for all you did during my lifetime. Love you forever.

Love,

Lauren