I wrote this about a year ago...Dec 2010

The gentle kindness of a friend will never be forgotten. As I sit here in my living room, I am drinking a glass of red wine, a cup of coffee and water- quite the combination for my written word adventure that I have been longing to dive into for some time now. I think back to all the things that have happened this year and the majority of my feelings are tainted with grief and sadness. I lost my father this year. It seems with the busyness of my life I have forgotten him. I forget what he looks like, the sound of his voice, his laugh. In my busiest of moments, my mind races too fast for me to even comprehend sometimes. This Christmas was a non-stop whirlwind of things to do, places to go, and things to clean. I did not stop too much to think of my father, and Christmas was his favorite holiday. Maybe that is why it did not feel like Christmas this year. The hustle-bustle of the season, not to mention working in the retail world, never gave me the moments I wanted and probably needed to sit and reflect his memory. Now that my surrounding atmosphere has become still for the first time in weeks and I am finally in the quiet, my thoughts cannot help but float to him. I see his picture on the wall and remember he had the biggest smiles that only few photos ever captured. When he laughed, and I mean laughed, it was a sound that always made me smile. His presence in this house is deeply missed. I can still hear him telling my mother we need to get the tallest tree from the lot. I can still see him sitting in that ugly green reclining chair in the living room watching his football games and always rooting for the Chargers. In my moments of reflection I find I have not forgotten my father at all. His character and his love are so real to me even now that I sometimes think he is still upstairs in his office on his computer playing games. I think about my life and where it should go from here and my mind only scatters when I try to focus these days.
I left the church I had attended for six years only two months before my father died. From the time I was eighteen to twenty four my life revolved around my dedication to God and church. I’ve always been attracted to the idea of God. Throughout my entire life I have always felt something call me toward Him. When I finally sat down and studied the bible I was blown away because I knew there was so much I was missing. I am very grateful for those who took the time to show me the scriptures. Over the past six years I’ve made many friends from this spiritual standpoint. Some friendships faded quickly, while others are still strong under fire today. I have just always had a mentality that I would never be good enough for anything. Even when I attended church I was never a strong personality. I tended to just do what certain people said. Maybe these hard times are the opportunity I need to really find out who I am. It’s just another path, leading to another journey. Maybe God is helping me find my strength through all this. Maybe I just need to pay attention more. The true measure of strength is determined in the darkest of nights while we wait for dawns first light…