December 27, 2024
363 days without you
Hi Dad,
Merry (late) Christmas. I’m sorry I didn’t write to you on Christmas day. I selfishly didn’t want to because I wanted to have a good day; not that every time I write to you it’s a bad day, but I just didn’t want to be sad. I didn’t want to cry on Christmas. Christmas Eve and Christmas day were good this year, much easier than last year in the hospice house (do you remember Christmas last year? You really liked the chocolate pie we brought). I think it helped that last year was so hard and non-traditional, so anything felt better than that.
Carter and I stayed with Mom on Christmas Eve which I think meant a lot to her. She went to church with us, then we ordered pizza and watched “Die Hard,” which you know is my favorite Christmas movie. The next day, Alec, Sarah, and FJ came over. We opened gifts, watched the claymation Rudolph movie, played 500, and ate ham and potatoes—I know you would’ve loved it. I felt your absence—you were always my pair when the whole family was together—but it wasn’t too heavy. It was bearable; it was okay.
I tried really hard to talk with Alec and Sarah. I’m trying to open myself up to them again (if I ever truly have), but I’m not quite sure what the next steps are to healing or fixing our relationship. I know you would want us to be close, and I know Mom does, but I’m struggling with what that looks like. How do I try to “fix” a relationship that has always been strained? How do I begin to know my brother, actually know him, outside of hardship and grief? I don’t know any of the answers, but I’m trying to be open to having a better relationship with him, even if I don’t know what that looks like. It makes me sad to think of us having lost you and each other in the same year.
Anyway, Dad, enough with the deep, sad thoughts. It dawned on me today that I haven’t really just sat down with you and told you everything you’ve missed in the past year (how in the world has it already been almost a year?). All of my letters to you are about grief and missing you and how I’m struggling. While all of that is real, it’s also probably depressing to read/hear (do you read/hear up there in Heaven?). So I thought I’d lay out a few of the big moments so you can be all caught up on how I’m doing sans grief.
January 2024:
- I started the year off with your visitation and funeral (okay I’m sorry this is depressing again). I wrote your obituary, and those 3-4 paragraphs might’ve been the hardest ones I’ve ever written. I definitely read over it dozens of times to make sure nothing was wrong.
- Your funeral was what you’d expect a funeral to be sad—sad, cold, a general blur. But then Carter and I went back to Ames, and I started my last semester of college. I tried really hard to get back to “normal” life, but it felt like everything was different.
February 2024:
- I celebrated your 55th birthday with Carter. I made you a bundt cake and we sang you “Happy Birthday.”
- Carter and I took a trip to Minneapolis to escape sad, real life. We played mini golf and tried really spicy chicken. I hated the spicy chicken.
- I tried skiing for the first time! I was awful and spent most of the time on the bunny slope with 6-year-olds. I sort of got the hang of it by the end, but it’s safe to say I won’t be skiing again any time soon.
- I started attending grief share meetings at my church. I hated them. No one could relate to me because it turns out there aren’t many 22-year-old, married, seniors in college who just lost their dad to stage four cancer. Who would’ve guessed that?
March 2024:
- Madison and I took a spring break trip to Duluth, MN, and we hiked and looked for agates (pretty rocks haha).
- My car was totaled by a nasty fender bender. Subsequently, Carter and I made our first adult purchase together: a new (used) car!
April 2024:
- I took graduation pictures. I took plenty with your high school graduation portrait.
- My first print article for BHG was published! It was a story about Mother’s Day, and I’m still so proud of it. I know you would be, too.
May 2024:
- I graduated college Summa Cum Laude. Mom, Carter, Alec, Sarah, and FJ were all there cheering me on. Ironically, there was an empty seat next to them during the ceremony. I cried when I knew it was yours.
- I started contract editing for BHG.com, and after two days of working part-time, they promoted me to full-time!
- Mom and I took my graduation trip to Texas. We went to South Padre and parasailed, sat on the beach, and saw plenty of turtles. Then we went to the Magnolia Silos (even you liked Chip and Jo!) and shopped for days on end.
June 2024:
- Nothing exciting happened. I worked. I missed you.
July 2024:
- Carter and I celebrated the 4th of July with friends at the beach. It was my first really good day in a long time. I remember laughing, really laughing, and I felt so free. It might have been my first good day since you passed.
- Carter and I moved closer to Des Moines for my job. We instantly fell in love with our new place.
- Struggled BIG TIME with mental health. You know I’ve always struggled with depression, but this time it was really bad. So started the journey of finding the right meds and having to constantly see my therapist and psychiatrist.
August 2024:
- I accepted a full-time position as editorial assistant with BHG.com! Dad, you would be so proud. I get to write every day about things that make me happy. It really does feel like a dream.
- We started attending our new church in Des Moines. We absolutely love it. The presence of God is so tangible there it makes me want to cry. The music is beautiful, and the sanctuary has stained glass and pews. The people are amazing, too, and they have started to feel like chosen family.
September 2024:
- One year married to Carter! I can’t believe it’s been one whole year. We joked that if we survived the first year, we could survive anything. Only up from here.
October 2024:
- I turned 23. I wasn’t sure how I would feel on my birthday, but I only felt grateful for the people in my life who made me feel special and loved. I was also grateful to no longer be 22. 22 was the worst.
- Went to a Cyclone football game and had lots of quality time with friends.
November 2024:
- Carter and I finally took our honeymoon to Tennessee. We rented a tiny cabin and rested the whole time. I drank lots of coffee, read, watched movies, and even tried to hike (emphasis on tried).
- Had our first Thanksgiving without you, and it was hard. I watched the parade without you. It wasn’t the same.
December 2024:
- Decorated the apartment for Christmas. It’s really starting to feel like home here. I wish you could see it, Dad.
- Celebrated Christmas without you, but I’ve already filled you in on that. I went to your grave and cried. I go see it every time I’m back in Sibley. While the idea of a cemetery isn’t very comforting, having a physical spot to go and be reminded of you and to feel all of my emotions oddly is.
That brings us to today. I’m cautiously optimistic for the new year, but am also dreading the next few days when it’s your one year anniversary. I know I tell you all of the hard and painful parts, and this year was definitely the hardest and most painful of them all. But I am doing okay. I think we will all be okay with time.
I love you, Dad. Talk soon xx
