Grief and Glass Floors

Sometimes it doesn’t matter how much or little time….but the wall of bricks hit you out of nowhere and there is no way to prepare yourself for the impact.

Tonight was that wall for me. While watching American idol…..I hit a wall.

When someone you love dies, the cliche yet words of comfort that you’ll inevitably hear – “they are watching you and are so proud”. Tonight I heard someone say those words and my over analytical mind instantly just thought – “is this true?”

Does heaven really have a glass floor?

I think of my father often. Too often really. Sometimes I can go hours, but inevitably, at night when I’m quiet and my mind begins its regular ritual of racing thoughts – I think about him.

He didn’t have a long time to really be proud of me. He didn’t get to be a part of my successes, big and small. My high school and college graduation; nursing ceremonies; first job. He didn’t get to see me walk down the isle to my husband. He didn’t get to experience the pregnancy announcements or birth day of my kids. Promotions, buying houses. He wasn’t a part of my normal daily “rocking the mom thing”. He wasn’t there for the big-big things or the little insignificant things.

I often look at his life and our time and know without a doubt he would be so proud. In the short while and short relationship we had – he told me how proud he was of me. I know he was, but I selfishly just want so much more. I want him here to tell me he’s proud of me. I want to see his face beam with excitement over things in my life’s journey and want to see him upset at my failures and crappy moments.

What happens in heaven? What REALLY happens in heaven?

Is he sitting on the glass floor watching my family, looking out for us – making up for lost time? Is he looking at me proud?

How painful it actually becomes when in those quiet moments you realize someone you loved – their death was their finality of “together” moments. The wall of bricks, hurts so bad to not believe they are still watching you living your life and being proud.

How much of a let down it feels knowing he doesn’t have the ability to make up for so much time lost.

But does he? Eternity is a super-duper long time.

So, my ramblings tonight in the rawness of unwelcomed grief – ends in me just hoping there is more protection and support from loved ones from above and that God allows glass floors in heaven.

338 responses to “Grief and Glass Floors”

  1. Thank you for this memory. He loved you and there wasn’t a day gone by that he wasn’t proud of you. He knew your life…I made sure of it….I wish it had been different for you and him.
    I am so sorry for your loss and the loss of all the wonderful moments in your life that he missed. I know if he could have relived those years It would have been different.
    Oh there is a window in heaven and he is sitting by it looking out at everyone he loves. He is proud!!!