I was stood in line at the Bakery yesterday in Maylands, eyeing up my favourite vanilla cannoli’s in the display fridge.
Bob Dylan’s “Hey Mr Tambourine Man” started playing and before I knew it, my heart was aching and tears were rolling down my cheeks. My Dad loved Dylan.
Since my Dad died, I see and hear him everywhere, you know. I hear his chesty laugh in the wind as I pass beer gardens, I hear his favourite songs on the radio, I see him in sunrises, rainbows, fluffy clouds, puppies…everything and anything reminds me of Dad. It’s bittersweet because they are happy memories but it’s painful to be reminded that my Dad no longer walks this earth.
I still don’t understand how the sun can rise when my Dad is gone.
I have an unrest and a lasting uneasiness about Dad’s death because it’s my duty as the Christian in my family to get my other family members saved. I didn’t succeed with Dad so it’s MY FAULT that Dad is suffering terrible pain beyond belief in Hell.
I can’t ever let go of that. I can’t eat or sleep because of the immense guilt of letting my Dad down.
If I had a dollar for every time I’ve asked myself and God “Where is my Dad?” I’d be a millionaire. Honestly. I don’t know where my Dad is. I hope with every fiber of my being that Dad was able to make his peace with the Lord and go to Heaven. I can’t bear to think of him suffering for all of eternity in Hell because I didn’t do my ONE JOB and save him.
Dad…where are you? Are you ok?
Something that’s surprised me about all this is that I’m not being very Christian about this. For instance, Jay (younger brother) wrote on my Dad’s Facebook “Dad, I can’t believe it…I would give anything to see you again” and so on. Very touching. What bothered me was the amount of ‘likes’ that post got and how many comments because Jay’s post far outweighed mine in popularity and I see that as competition. Some kind of sick “who loved Dad most” game has started in my head and Jay is winning, you guys. He’s beating me by about 10 to 1.
Why am I like this???
I am so disappointed in myself right now.
This isn’t a game. This isn’t a competition. My Dad has died. I should be better than this.
When Dad was alive, the competition was “who/what does Dad love?” and Mom and Jay were shared number 1. Dad loved them most of all. I came somewhere around 15th or 16th, I think…probably after “a long stroll in Bunnings”. Dad loved being in Bunnings (a garden store for anyone not in Australia). I knew that. I’ve accepted that and long since learnt to be okay with the fact that Dad loved my Mom and brother a lot more than he loved me. I was just happy to be included.
Mom says that Jay doesn’t say much on Facetime calls, “he is quiet, Janet – he just listens…your brother is so devastated” and something ugly within me cries out “I’m devastated too, Mom – I’m just more mouthy about it”.
I am convinced that Jay is grieving Dad better than I am.
When did I become this toxic, horrible person???
More importantly, how do I make it stop?