Moving Forward vs Moving On - My Race with Grief

      Yesterday was Father's Day; and this is the sixth year we have had to celebrate without him. Surprisingly, these six days were not full of bitterness and sadness. Of course I have had my share of days when my grief is so painful I just want to allow the black hole of my emotions to swallow me up, but I also have a lot of good days where I'm happy and okay that my dad is no longer with me. For a while I felt that these 'okay' days meant that I was moving on; not only moving on past the pain of my dad's battle with cancer and death but also moving on from my life with my hero.

(Yup, that's me, number 685; sporting the haircut that comes when learning the lesson of going to sleep chewing gum.)

      We all race against grief differently. I have pushed passed the jealous feelings of friend who still have their fathers here on earth with them. I have come to terms with the sadness of never getting to do special father-daughter things again. My particular tripping block is guilt - feelings that I have failed to use the precious time we had wisely or that I did not express my love for him enough before he died. My dad was truly an amazing dad. He always made time for me and my siblings, supported us in every sport we participated in, was our math tutor, nurtured our talents; made our life goals his goals. Have I always remembered to appreciate my dad for these blessings? No. Big life events tend to magnify common everyday occurrences and bring them to the center of our attention; and as I continue to grow up, run the race of life without dad, the importance of these magnified everyday memories start to diminish and they shrink back to make room for the new memories I make. One has to move on in life, don't they? Whether or not this this true, I can't stand the idea of moving on from my dad. Saying that feels like I'm not only shoving the memories to the side, but throwing it away all together. So then I become stuck in life, and grief zooms ahead to take the lead.

      You can't race without running, and you can't run without moving on and down the course - or so I thought for a long time - until I started running again. See, just in case you haven't caught on to the running theme of this post by now, I often think about running when I think about my dad because it was something he loved to do. Although he did his best to include me in this passion, I have never shared his talent or grace in running. My very first 5k was a zoo run when I was eight years old. I had begged and whined to be allowed to run the 'big run' (versus the kid mile run) and with the entire course being in the fences of the zoo, my parents gave in.  I was so excited! I insisted on starting at the very front with my dad and the other runners (which, I should inform you from my experience, it is not advisable if you can't run a sub-8 minute mile. Especially if there are those crazy fast, stroller pushing mommy runners. Ouch!) thinking that if I tried my hardest I could keep up with dad. My dad kindly ran with me the first block, but then to my horror, told me that he was going to run ahead and meet me at the finish line. Just run the whole way and follow the runners in front of me were his instructions and then he was gone. That day my dad finished top three in his age group with a time of 17- something; I finished sometime way behind him and I got to keep the stuff toy red panda he won.

      I finished that race not by moving on, but moving forward. When running alone I could have quit, cried, sat down or even run back to the starting line; but the only way to race and finish was to move forward. And that is how I try to race against grief, allowing what was given and taught to me in the past push me forward to promises in of the future.

      As promised, my dad was waiting for me at the finish of my first 5k, and once again he is ahead of me waiting at the biggest and best finish line in heaven. It is okay for me to have good days and move forward in my life. Setting new goals, trying different things and being happy is not moving on from my dad, it is moving forward in the race he encouraged me to run. It's not going to be easy, but I want to run my life's race with a prayer in my heart and hope lacing my shoes- just watch me go!