Walk With Me

I' ve been trying to continue to live my own life, to be a wife, to raise my kids, to do my jobs and yet I can’t deny that the past few months the looming cloud of “my Dad has dementia” has been this sneaky thief slowing taking more than just my Dad from me. These past couple of months have been hard. You know the whole stages of grief thing? When your 8 year old comes to you and says to you, “Mama you’re not happy” it’s a rude awakening to just how much I’ve been avoiding admitting to myself just how sad I am. My Dad will always be a drummer. I cannot think of my Dad without thinking of his sparkling, blue drum set. For several years through college and after, I played for church service often with my Dad preaching and sometimes playing the drums along with me. Deep down I had this awareness of how important those moments were and what it meant to me, but when you’re in college and starting a life of your own, you don’t necessarily hone in on that – at least I didn’t. He stop