I’ve cried so much over the last few days.
Sometimes I think I see my Dad in the crowd and my heart leaps. Yesterday I thought I heard him behind me, telling Mom she could go to Myer and he would be more than happy to wait it out in a nearby pub. I turned to see a man of a similar age to my Dad, pleading with his excited wife. I guess this is an argument/suggestion that arises in a lot of marriages – not just with my Mom and Dad.
I miss my Dad every single day.
Because he died in a different country and was then quickly cremated (WTF Philippines?!?), I don’t believe my Dad is dead. I know it in my bones but in my heart? I refuse to believe it. I carry my phone in my hand hoping my Dad’s photo will pop up on the screen. I’ll answer and Dad will be chuckling away “That was a bit scary, hey babygirl?”
Daddy…please call me. Please tell me you’re okay.
Dad is dead. He has been burnt to a crisp (how are we as a society ok with this?) and is in an urn now. My 6 foot tall Englishman Daddy – with bright beady blue eyes, a big, friendly grin and a deep gravelly voice…no no no. He can’t be in an urn. He’s too…BIG. Too filled with life. That’s not my Dad…that’s a weird jar.
My Dad was 73 when he died.
One day I’ll be able to look back on his life and smile and be thankful because he lived such a happy, fulfilled life. He and Mom were the best of friends over the last 10 years and I’ve never seen them happier. Dad died in the same room as Mom. The last time Mom spoke to Dad, he was smiling with headphones on and watching old movies on his iPad. Dad loves gadgets and technology, bless him.
But right now? I can’t be thankful. I AM NOT THANKFUL YOU TOOK MY DAD, LORD GOD. I don’t understand why you took him. I feel nothing but unease about it all.
Grieving over a loved one is the most painful thing I’ve ever been through. Grief doesn’t have rules and it certainly doesn’t obey any type of linear/understandable process. One moment, I’ll be fine…the next I’ll be in floods of tears. One moment I feel so down, so alone and it hurts so much to know my Dad is gone from this earth…and the next, I’m laughing at a funny meme of someone yeeting a baby.
Grieft doesn’t play by the rules and is absoultely exhausting to have to experience.