a strong kind of broken

Sometimes, I wonder if people can tell just by looking at me. I wonder if it's the reason why, when we briefly make eye contact, they quickly look away.
   Can they feel the pain, too?
Lately I've felt like my GaGa-inspired sunglasses are a shield. Not for me, but for others around me. I feel like the ache in my soul is just reaching, clawing its way out of me, trying to latch onto someone else. I know I've looked at people and sensed that they've suffered a great loss. There's something deeper in the way they meet your eye, the way they hold your gaze as if they're afraid to let go.
 
I know there's no way they can possibly know. I'm the only one who knows there's an elephant in the room (most of the time). But it still sometimes feels like my soul is going to shatter, and if I don't hold my arms around myself then my body will shatter with it.

I'm not just aching over David right now. I always ache over him. I always will. But I know he's safe, loved and warm. I felt my deepest sorrow and my greatest joy when David came into my life. I needed him.

My dad, Lynn, is passing away. After months of my praying, begging, pleading with the Lord, Lynn's body has signaled to us that he's ready to go. {not my will, but thine, o Lord}

We've brought him home so that his last days can be spent with the people he loves most - his family. We know he is seeing beyond the veil, and has been serving the Lord on the other side for some time now. It's just time for his mortal body to rest. I now know that Lynn was with me at placement. He was with my sister when she was robbed at work. He was with my mom these many months that she's sat by his bedside, so devoted. He is with me when I ache. I believe in guardian angels, and I have had experiences over and over that help me remember that the veil is so very thin. Lynn is there. He is preparing a beautiful, wonderful mansion in the eternities for my mother. He is spreading the gospel message to those who have passed on without a knowledge. I will be with Lynn again.

I cry a few times per hour. My chest feels like it will explode one minute, then I feel that familiar hollow ache the next. My dad, the man who helped carry me through my pregnancy (blessings at 3 am, letting me vent, bearing his testimony of my Heavenly Father's love), and the man who, by the way he loves and adores my mother, showed me how I deserve to be treated, will never leave my heart. I only knew him for just over 3 years, but he changed my life forever. I will cling to anything I can, I will mope, I will be tempted to hide away and never reenter the world. But I am at peace with the decision my family has made. I will be there for my mom, because she has always been there for me. I will hold my head high, because I am a daughter of a loving Heavenly Father who will not let me be miserable for the rest of my life.

Sometimes I wonder if people can tell, just by looking at me, that I'm broken. Even if they can, I hope I'm a strong kind of broken. The cracks in my heart allow me to radiate more love to those around me. And I'm trying. I will love, I will give, I will serve. Lynn was my example, so I will live the way he taught me to.

Lynn - you are the father I didn't always have, and you never had to be. You didn't have to hold me when I cried, but you did. You didn't have to call me your daughter, but you did. You didn't have to put up with my attitude, my messy room, my piles of laundry... but you did. I love you so much. I always will. My children will always know how amazing their grandfather was. I pray that you are teasing them right now, preparing them to come down to a crazy mommy. I pray you'll watch over David, the little boy you helped me make the right, loving decision for. I pray he'll feel your guiding strength behind him his whole life. You are always in my heart. Forever, your daughter.

July 2007