One Year. Twelve Months Too Many.
Its been twelve long months and every day before I go to bed, I still say goodnight to him. I carry a photo of him and Mikey my eldest brother who my dad is now with to look at when I need to hear their voices or need advice or just want to say hello, in my head of course. I still miss my Dad so badly. I miss my brother the same and wish I could bring them back but I can't. It's real. Jesus, it hurts. But I need to get this out, need to let go. Need to let them both have their peace. I need peace. But I'm not sure how. In truth, I've never needed approval from anybody. I'm sure of my decisions. But I am still wanting to make Dad proud, needing in a way to validate that I love them both very much, and the grief and pain never goes away.
Twelve months. When does it get easier? I've sometimes said I've made my peace and come to terms with it. Other days, I find myself back in that hospital room, by Dad's bed, remembering how empty he looked once he'd gone. It was just a body now. Dad's essence had slipped away.
But the good things are still in my mind too. Happy memories. I know he's now with Mikey. I still hear his laugh, and it makes me laugh. Silly stuff, really.
I grew up with loving parents and for the most part, an extremely happy childhood. I was and am very lucky. My seven remaining siblings have always remained close. I mean we obviously have our "favourite" or the one we talk to the most. Mine growing up, into adulthood was Michael, and Graham. I'm the second youngest at 34, my little sister is ten years younger. But I'm lucky to have a big family, as I know I'll always have somebody no matter what who I can go to if I need their help, and who will never lie to me, and tell me how it is.
I received a letter through the sort last week asking me to go to the solicitors, upon request of Dad. He'd left instructions in his will for a year after his passing. As I was the executor of the will through Dad's request. I sorted the funeral, sorted the bungalow, so I had plenty to do and it took my mind off the real issue for a few grateful hours a day. I didn't allow myself to grieve. I think I am now.
Grief is a process and everyone needs to allow it to happen. I have kept hold of the majority of it. I think that's my answer. To let it run its course.
So, here's to my Dad. A fanatical F1 fan, good husband to my mum, great father, and my best friend. I miss you everyday Dad.
I don't know if you guys have lost either parent, or both. But when did it become easier? What is your happiest memory of your folks either if they've passed on or are still with us?