I think of my Dad up in heaven, clinking glasses with his mates and “having a good yarn” (Aussie for a long talk) with everyone around him.
That, I’m ok with.
I am not okay with releasing Dad’s ashes this June, though.
I’m terrified that if I let Dad go…all my memories of him will go, too.
The way he’d wiggle his head when he was pleased with something.
The way he’d gesticulate with his hands when he spoke.
I don’t want to see burnt bits of my Dad in splotches around the river.
It would honestly feel less painful to literally cut my ribs open and pull my heart out, yanking it away from the rest of my flesh.
If Dad was here, he’d say “Don’t be so bloody stupid, Janet”.
And it’s bitter-sweet because I miss him, but I know he’d disapprove of me wanting to hold tight to what’s left.
A copper urn with ashes in it.
Those ashes used to be Dad’s big shoulders…I thought my Dad was as big as a mountain.
Those ashes used to carry a tune in whistling bits of songs as Dad wandered around.
Those ashes held my hand at every Doctors appointment, rubbed my shoulders when I was anxious and unsure or would be familiar feet under a bar table, tapping the beat to a song the band was playing.
I don’t understand how my Mom and brother are ok with letting Dad disappear into the waves.
I’m so fucking angry and distressed about the thought of it.
How is this ok???
The pain of losing my Dad is so intense, guys. It feels like my bones are being ground up. It hurts so fucking much!!!
Mom has had enough of waiting on me and said they are releasing Dad’s ashes on the anniversary of his death – the 4th June whether I am ok with it or not.
I literally cannot bear the pain of saying goodbye.
How does anyone else cope with losing a parent? Because for me, it’s the most painful experience of my life and NEVER gets any easier.
The pain never goes.
But the memories do.
I’ve forgotten so much already.
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