Short Story: Slow Down
- April Tribe Giauque
- May 18
- 3 min read
Written by April T Giauque
Short Stories: Slow Down
Dear Dad,
I miss you. Wish you were still here. The plan was to live—to beat Aunt Afton’s record of 106 years old. You left 25 years too early, the way a cloud fades on a hot day or how a full moon wanes into a new moon. Your spirit is eternal, so you have not vanished. Traces of you are everywhere, but I can’t see, talk to, or text you. No more clapping and rubbing your hands together announcing a grand project, or choir concerts. I think my favorite and most memorable time with you last year was watching you call friends and, with a pure loving heart, reach out to make amends. It was inspiring, but so telling that you knew your time would be shorter than we all thought. I wanted life to slow down…
Just today, I was looking at my English Horse chestnut tree and saw a few of the branches that had died over the winter. I said, “I need to call Dad to see if he could help me…..” I faded out right there and just broke into a million pieces. I sounded all howly and blubbery. The levels of emotions were at a tsunami level. Then there was a lull in the wreckage, and I reached for a tissue in Mom’s car, and a wave of mom hit me.
I was propelled back to Ogden and walking with the dogs… I looked up to see their dog, Morgan, looking through the glass door of the house, his black and white freshly groomed fur, tilting his head to welcome me in. But I didn’t move. Mom and Dad are everywhere and nowhere right now. I sat and just cried harder. That’s all I could do. My heart breaking, my mind reaching the Spirit quietly whispering, “Slow down….slow down….Be still, and wait… on the Spirit of the Lord.” So I waited….and called on Jesus to help me breathe through this.
My mind flashed to a calendar….June is coming….I know it will be another challenging time; it would be your 58th wedding anniversary and mom’s 78th birthday, but…..you are somewhere else. Man, I am forever grateful for Uncle Shawn saying in 2023, “You know your dad is getting up there. You should throw him a party." (Now, is that precisely what he said? No, but the result of his conversation with my sister was a beautiful party and a time of joy). I tried to wipe my face, and “Slow down. Slow down….Be still, and wait on the Spirit of the Lord.” So I waited, trying to gulp air for breath.
With gasps of air, my mind remembered one year later, in 2024, you were going through deep bone pain, back pain, and then you fell off the curb at work. I know you were still trucking at 81. In my mind’s eye, I could see that fall and felt a wave of fear slam me, knowing it was the downward path to your passing on July 19, 2024. Dad, I am eternally grateful that I was able to give what little care I could during those last six weeks of your life. It was an honor to serve you, and then a third dam of emotion was released. “Slow down…slow down…Be Still….” I tried to coach myself, but I couldn’t. I knew what the back side of losing a partner was. Sweet Momma…I needed to prepare for her to come to Idaho.
Now, June 2025…it is coming. I’m planning to see the graves, and well, I pray I can “Slow down and Be still” and listen and feel you both there. I ran to the temple this morning, hoping to be given some peace….I thought that meant I would just have a calm day, but no. A few of the sweet spirits whom I served today opened up the veil to a thinness that I was sure I would reach and feel the wisps of it evaporate, revealing you both in white. Well, not today, but it was close. “Slow down…slow down…Be still…and know that He is God.”
So, I am sitting…. trying to slow down…and know that He is God….He is, and the grief wave from my heart keeps slamming, and I just want a hug from both of you… I trust God. I love Him. But it’s been a wringer of a day. Sissel sums it up for me well:
Comentários