Friday, February 5, 2016

365 days.....

I'm not really sure how it has happened, but it has been a year since my Dad died.

How is that even possible?
Time, this year, has passed with light speed and dragged like it was going through cold molasses,
and yet here I am a year later..

Grief has been an interesting journey as I dealt with, survived and slogged through this year of firsts.  I have found that on the major days, birthdays, holidays and this anniversary, I go quiet.  I start avoiding looking at the pictures of him I have in my room and on my phone and I avoid Facebook and other social sites for the same reason.  In fact, I'm writing this in advance, because I know I need to express this, but as the actual date approaches (February 5), I will retreat into quiet.

The quiet is what is right for me....
at first, I tried to fight it, but I learned that if I just accept and flow through the quiet, I come out on the other side with new insights and peace that I didn't have before and if I don't fight it, it only lasts a day or so..

For the rest of the time, your help, advice and support has been right.  It's a mix and a balance and I'm sure that he would of been proud of me for finding this balance and making it through.

In the past year, I have found photos I had forgotten about of the two of us and have framed a couple of them and have them on my dresser where I see them daily.  My one true regret is that I was often behind the camera or avoided having my picture taken with my Dad because I didn't like my hair or I thought I looked fat or some other reason...  WHY?  Why did I let my insecurities get in the way of a memory?  It is a mistake that I am fixing with those still in my life...

One of the weirder thing that caused me grief until I had to let it go was his number in my phone and on my favorites list.  I can not tell you how many times that I had a question for him and dialed his number and it wasn't until I hit dial that I would remember and then get clobbered by grief....  Ironically, once I took his number off his phone, it didn't hurt as much and I started a new ritual.  I asked him anyway.  Quietly, in my head, and then I listen....  I generally get an answer pretty quick and I hear his voice in my head as I do, and you know what, the answer has been right and exactly what I needed.

And that is when I realized the most important thing of this year of grief....
he is still with me
and I am still his daughter.

Love your daughter....

1 comment:

  1. Melissa, this is so beautiful. I love the relationship you had with your dad ... and still have. <3 Marti