Late Night Visitor – Grief Meter
When you enter the hospital under an emergency situation, or when you wake from surgery, an important question posed to you is, “On a scale from 1 to 10, 1 being low and 10 being high, what is your pain level right now?”
This same question can be asked regarding the level of grief you are experiencing right now.
My father passed away in July of 2009. As his quality of life was fading in the months prior to his death, my grief meter was increasing and went full-on 10 that early morning we said good-bye to the patriarch of our family. I remained at 10 for about 4 years and noticed the intense pain of his passing ebbed and flowed. Some days I was at 10 and others I could be at 5, but never lower than 5.
Grief appears at life milestones, anniversaries, birthdays, and holidays. Sunday, June 21, is Father’s Day. If my dad was still alive, I would visit him, he’d offer me a beer from his well-stocked beer shelf in the fridge, he’d have baseball on the television and Polkas playing on the radio in the background. Other family members would join us and the stomach-hurting, eye-tearing laughter and memory-making would begin. Mom would be busy in the kitchen prepping the meal/snacks and a bingo game would break out. In the cool of the evening, we would all wander out to the driveway sitting in lawn chairs to continue the conversation, laughter, and play a few games with those dangerous pointy lawn jarts. You always wanted to be partnered up with dad; the guy had great aim.
Sadly these times can never be recreated, but the memories play like favorite movie clips in my head.
Before I started writing this blog my grief level regarding my dad was at 5, and ever-so-quickly intensified to 10.
Happy Fathers Day, Dad! Oh, how I miss you right now.
Acts 10:2 (NIV)
2 He and all his family were devout and God-fearing; he gave generously to those in need and prayed to God regularly.