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While "blog stalking" today, I came across a post from Loralee that really got me thinking about things.
I lost my father December of 2008. It was a shocking loss in that my father had had brain surgery to remove a tumor three years earlier and everything was supposed to be FINE afterward. Well, everything was fine, for awhile. Two days after Christmas, and the morning after my husband proposed to me, my mother (my mother and father had been divorced since I was 7) called to tell me she had just received a phone call that my Dad had dropped dead of a brain aneurysm. My first feelings-anger. Anger rushed through me like I had never felt before. I was getting MARRIED. My Dad, a chef, was going to give me away AND cook. Now, while your reading this some of you are thinking that I am a self absorbed ass-hat, but we cannot help the way we deal with grief.
I don't think I have mentioned here before that I am half French. My father was born and raised in Marseilles, France and his whole family still lives there. He was also living there at the time of his death, meaning my brother and I had to fly to France very suddenly. Well, Matthew (my then Fiance and current husband) insisted that he go to-and pay his own way. He drained his health savings account (costing him about 1500 dollars on his tax return) and booked a ticket to travel with me. I wont even GO into the fact that my passport expired and how he called a congressman to get it re-instated. Anyway, the morning we are to leave, his father had been complaining of nausea and as we were dropping off Matthew's son at his mothers house, his father literally drops dead of a massive heart attack. Nothing, NOTHING can prepare you for this.
In the end, I flew to France, by myself, and met my brother and mourning family at the airport.
I have never been a very religious. More of an agnostic ( I HATE this word...) than anything else. My husband was raised Southern Baptist, we have very different views.
Ever since this happened, I have struggled with my already struggling faith. How can I accept what happened to my family as the will of God? People have said it made Matthew and mine's relationship stronger...but wasn't it already strong? We still would have gotten married even if our fathers had not died.
Anyway, I thought I would share this story with you. It has been rather cathartic, really, to get it all out. Go and read Loralee's blog and then read the other blogs she linked on her page about women talking about death and religion.
Thanks for reading,
Step-Mommy.
