DAY BY DAY

"One day at a time, sweet Jesus
That's all I'm asking of You
Lord give me the strength to do everyday
What I have to do
Yesterday is gone, sweet Jesus
Tomorrow may never be mine
So Lord for my sake 

Help me to take
One day at a time" ~ as sung by Mother Emily Bibby

It's been two weeks. It still doesn't seem real. I'm back at work because apparently that's supposed to help, and don't get me wrong, it is helping. When I walked back into work, they seemed really happy that I was back. When I was back at my station, the students were happy to see me back, and I was also happy to see them? Trying to put on a happy face to serve sandwiches and wraps, while trying to deal with the numbness of losing a parent, is not easy. So when I'm asked how I'm doing, I don't know. I tell people I'm taking it day by day. 

"Why doesn't Daniel call?" Because I don't know what to say. Even while writing this I'm struggling to find the words to say or the right way to put the words together that are in my head. What do you want to hear from me anyway? That I'm drained? That I'm ashamed that I wasn't further in life when this happened? That I never gave my dad a daughter in law while he was with us? That I feel more lonely that I've ever had before? That's not easy to just come out and say over the phone. Yeah I'm going to work, la di da, oh the money, but when I come home--

At the funeral, I was doing ok. I saw him in the casket. I was trying to get my tribute on the TV they had at the funeral home but I never got it to work. Just ended up playing it from my laptop. Seeing people gathered around the laptop to watch it was a sight to see. I was spending time with my great nephew. It wasn't until right before the service started, I broke. My sister was there to help me cry through it. My mom was behind us both praying. I was sitting with my brother and sister. I can't remember how long it has been since I sat with my brother and sister in a service.

I'm tired. For those that have been reading, I've been very open about my mental health the past couple of years. Dad was a supporter of the blogs. It's funny when I was heading to KY I was hoping to make him laugh again, only to find out he was gone before I even landed. I didn't say anything at the funeral. I wasn't able to. If I could hear him say, "Hey mister..." again--

I'm done.

~Daniel Richerson