I lost my father a little over 3 and 1/2 years ago. It happened so quickly and unexpectedly that I still have not fully processed it. Somedays it feel like it happened yesterday- others feels like he has been gone forever. I can still remember the sound and exact tone of his voice, can see his face perfectly, I can remember just about everything- his scent, his laugh, his yell, his odd sense of humor that I think I am the only one who ever really got. I remember him reading Go Dog Go to Drew just the night before he disappeared from my life. I can remember his notes on my Birthday simply saying to have a good day and that he loved me. But my most favorite thing- waking up on Christmas and Dad always calling me to tell me Merry Christmas and a hug from him when I saw him... I cannot let go of. I crave it. And not just on Christmas- it attacks me for weeks before Christmas- making me dread the day. So today I struggle missing him. It's funny how something that simple can mean so much. It amazes me how I can go on day to day and be fine- then something triggers his memory and it's like I collapse. Just the other day Drew was playing with a blanket that I share with him- the most simple brown fleece blanket- only cost $5 from walmart. Yet worth a million to me. See it's one of the last Christmas memories I have of my Dad... we had ran to walmart on Christmas Eve because Dad just had to get a new wireless mouse for the computer- could not wait...see once he set his mind there was no stopping him. Knowing dad he had prob researched for hours the right mouse to buy and finally made a decision and had to go get it then. Funny fellow. Well I went with him because I wanted a cheap fleece blanket for my desk at work. Dad ended up buying it for me. Silly memory because he's bought me a million things- but that was last time I remember shopping with him. So seeing Drew mess around with it- triggered my Dad vault. My place inside that I lock everything up about him and rarely let a memory out- too fearful to share because makes me sad in end and don't want to upset family with memory. But there are certain things I have noticed always trigger dad memories:
*certain foods- eggs and bacon- ah Dad made the best
*house repairs- Dad always saved the day
*kids books- Dad picked the best -Goodnight Moon, On the Night You Were Born
*Survivor- Dad always knew what was going to happen
*computer problems- Dad would spend hours to fix.
See I spent a large part of my life butting heads completely with my Dad- then somehow we came to understand each other in a way that no one else understands one another. Maybe its our similar tempers and ability to flip out over nothing. HA. Maybe its our quirky odd sense of sarcasm and humor. HA. Guess I more of a Daddy's girl than I knew.
Grief sucks. But trust me you cannot avoid it forever. No matter what you do it always come back. You can lock it deep down inside like it try to in my Dad vault- something will drag it up. You also cannot live it everyday. You cannot let the grief swallow you whole. You cannot dwell on the what ifs or the whys. You have to face it. You have to accept it even if you don't want to. You have to move on. You have to chose to remember what you can and let go of what you cannot. Grief doesn't ever completely go away, but you can learn to manage it. You can learn what triggers it and what helps you from sinking into depression over it. Everone tells you it will get easier. Part of me agrees- but part of me wants to scream at them to shut up they don't know what they are talking about. In someways it does get easier- but I think its not really that its eaiser it's just becomes more normal- more uncomfortably comfortable. Anyways enough of my rambles. Bottom line- I miss my Dad so insanely much that it hurts- and the journey through this grief is hard- it sucks! Yet I have found that the thing that helps the most is..THIS. Remembering and sharing. Opening my Dad vault just enough to share- just enough to revist memories- just enough to smile and to laugh- just enough to hurt a lot and heal a little. HA- sometimes the vault door opens and I try to slam it shut. Makes me think of when I was a teenager and would slam my bedroom door only to hear my Dad threaten to take my door off completely if I did it again. Oh Dad- if you only knew...
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