Sunday, October 23, 2011

Dishes in the Sink

Anyone that knows me is aware that I have a problem with dirty dishes. 

I can’t stand them...and I’m obsessed with always having a clean sink. I’ve even embraced the idea of loving to clean dishes. Call me crazy. Call me OCD. Whatever. 

I’m aware this little “problem” makes me the perfect candidate for a dinner party at a friend’s house. Just invite me over for some food, cook like a chef throwing a party for the last day of her life, and watch me clean every dish in your sink afterwards with a passion. Don’t try to tell me to forget it--to not worry about those dirty piles of cookware crusted with food that are hanging around looking ugly in your sink. JUST GIVE ME YOUR DIRTY DISHES and everyone will be happy. 

That is, until lately.

Man, lately, I just haven’t been myself. 

Most of you know that in June of this year, my family and I lost someone very special to us in Afghanistan. Pfc. Josh Jetton died serving our country. The loss felt is too great for words. 

I am confused. 

I am angry. 

I am tired. 

I am depressed. 

I am at loss. 

I am empty. 

And I don't understand how God could allow this to happen. I trusted Him through poverty, homelessness, sickness and disease, heartbreak, and the loss of others who have been so close to me. 

And yes, I still do trust Him... 

But losing someone that meant the world to my family and I has been tearing me up.

I have so many questions. 

I can't sleep. I can't run (even though I'm still traveling to DC this Thursday to run the Marine Corps Marathon on the 30’th with the TAPS Run & Remember team in memory of Josh). I can’t train. I can’t motivate myself to do anything. It looks and feels like my life is falling apart...and it would be without God and my friends and family holding me together. 

Pfc. Joshua Jetton 9.18.1989 - 6.20.2011

So, here I am, over 3 weeks past my last post. 

Dirty dishes in the sink. 

And not an ounce of interest in cleaning them.

UPDATE: After writing this...I did my dishes...and went for a 30 mile bike ride. Ahhh, God is good. 


  1. Be kind to yourself and allow yourself to grieve. xoxo

  2. I was thinking about you lately P. I noticed I hadn't seen any posts from you on DM for awhile. I'm sorry you are going through a rough patch. I send you a big comforting virtual hug and know that even though we've never met in person, I understand what you are going through, as I was where you are about 4 years ago, losing my Mom and Dad just 3 weeks apart. By the way, I have a sink full of clean dishes that I never seem to put away. Is that bad?

  3. I'm so sorry for your loss. Here is another song I listen too when I'm grieving. .

    On a lighter note, I'm starting to enjoy washing dishes. My job has always been to load the dish washer but I've started washing the pans and crock pots too. I hate to admit it being a guy and all but there is something therapeutic about it.

  4. I am sorry to hear about your loss, thoughts and prayers go out to you and your family

  5. All I can say is you need to get out and run, and 1 mile isn't going to do it...

    Running help with everything.

  6. I am glad you were able to bike ride and do the dishes. Sometimes it just takes doing 1 thing to help.

    But be gentle with yourself as your grieve. It is such a terrible loss.

  7. I'm so sorry friend. I think grief has a really painful way of taking away such big pieces of who we are until we can't even recognize ourselves anymore. I'm sorry that you lost your friend, and that you have to mourn that loss now. I'm just so sorry.

  8. ((HUG)) Just know that you are in my thoughts!

  9. I am truly sorry for your loss. What a beautiful tribute. I know he is watching. God is good. Have a good race!

  10. My wife made me do the dishes last night....

  11. Kc, I am so sorry for your loss. My heart goes out to you. I’ll be following you this weekend in Fl, girl. Kick some Ironman butt!

    Mike, that is one of my favorite David Crowder songs. So amazing! Thank you for sharing!

    Coach dion--running DOES help with everything. So much healing came during my 26+ miles in DC.

    Mark, God is SO good.

    Thank you everyone for your sweet words of encouragement and love. I am learning that healing takes time and it’s different for everyone...and it’s okay to cry.