Feeling the feels

It had been a busy weekend, work wise, and we had neglected our children, especially Beatrice.  To make up for it we took the children to the zoo in Kobe.  It was an amazing day.  We decided on the train trip home to go to our favourite sushi place.  It was the 105 yen a plate place, which, at the time, was only R10.50 a plate!!!!  We ate and laughed and had a great time.  As we walked out I had this sense that something was dreadfully wrong.  I quickly discovered I had left my beloved scarf, the scarf which was actually my mother's sarong when she was young and free and wore light green sarongs, in the restaurant.  I rushed back to get it.  On returning to my family I checked my phone (don't we always do that?) to find 2 missed calls from my mother's best friend in Plettenberg Bay.  My immediate thought was that my parents were getting a divorce, something I had feared much of my life.  I dialed, my mother answered and asked to speak to Emiel.  Um, say what??  Emiel took the phone and listened.  He then hung up.  I could tell from the look on his face that whatever the news was, it was bad, earth-shatteringly bad.  Emiel turned to me and held me, tried to talk me into getting home before he told me the news.  I wanted to know immediately and pushed (it's such a bad habit) and so he told me, "Your father has gassed himself," he said.  He wasn't supposed to say it like that, he told me later, but heck how does anyone share that kind of information the right way??  Is there a right way???

Why am I sharing this, you ask?  Honestly, I have to.  It was almost 6 years ago, I think, and for so long I felt like things were ok, like I was ok.  And then Chester Bennington took his life and I watched social media explode with everyone's opinion and my heart broke again for his children who will no longer have a daddy, and for myself and my siblings.  

I find it hard to breathe when I think about my dad. It blows my mind thinking about how much he has missed out on, how much he chose to miss out on.  

I miss his hugs.  I miss talking to him.  I miss feeling like he was so proud of me.  I miss him.  

Grief will bite you on the bum when you least expect it.  And that is fine.  Feel the feels.  Go through the process.  I am grateful for a husband who allows me the space to feel the feels and watch loads of Youtube music videos of songs that make the tears flood down my face wetting the front of my shirt.  

Why do I share this, because I need to and because I have this firm belief that as I am vulnerable (a word I find so flippen hard to spell) you would find the freedom to be vulnerable too.

I leave you with these two songs.  Under Pressure and Elohim

Much love 

Philippa 

If you are needing prayer, please feel free to message me at philippaliebenberg@gmail.com