Taming the Wooly Mammoth

I wrote this two years ago. That wooly mammoth still needs taming, on occasion but thankfully grief is not “the elephant in the room” any longer. We talk about our life without her and lean into the grief  and not run from it. It’s amazing how much fun my father and I have together. Mom is pleased, I am sure!

I was with my Dad yesterday. I went to his house to see him. Dad said that I never come over anymore. I have not intentionally stayed away from Dad because we talk all the time and we meet for lunch and dinner on a regular basis. However, after being with him in his home, I realized that I have avoided going there. Even pulling into the driveway and looking at the trees and wilted flower pots filled my chest with void and heaviness. It was difficult to open the back door and walk in. It’s as though I have to push against a huge wooly mammoth to move out of my way just so I can walk in his home. I can’t breathe. And then my father sees me. His smile is big, his arms opened as he moves towards me and we hug and the elephant sitting on my chest doesn’t feel quite as heavy. 

I miss mom so very much. My dad misses her more. I seriously doubt that Dad would use the analogy of a wooly mammoth on his chest to describe grief, but he does relate to the heaviness and emptiness without Mom. But, I see a growing peace in his soul as the Lord gently helps him deal with his loss. 

He found Mom’s poetry! We thought she had mistakenly thrown the file away, but it was in her office all this time. On top of a shelf, under a stack of books. Dad has been organizing the office, reading her notes, letters, books that she loved…and he discovered the file of poetry. The more I sat with Dad in “his office” and listened to him talk about Mom and her poetry, the more that wooly mammoth moved further away. God is so good. He is more than so good. I can’t describe how good. Only God can tame the wooly mammoth. He is. There is peace in my soul.