It’s Monday, May 2nd at 1am & I’m wide awake in bed, listening to the thunderstorm outside my window, tears streaming down my cheeks thinking about memories of my dad.
Tomorrow, May 3rd, marks the 1-month anniversary of my Dad’s death. After a 3yr. battle with cancer that exhausted his body. A lot of people told me what a fickle bitch grief is. How you can go for weeks, months & think you’re doing just fine…but then *poof* a song comes on the radio, a memory creeps in & your heart is hurting all over again. It seems unfair that the world doesn’t stop for your tears.
What people don’t tell you is that grief is something you go through alone.
People can relate, I know I’m not the first person to lose a father. But nobody has the same memories as I do with my Dad. Just like I don’t have the same memories that my brother’s have with our Dad. We each are grieving for different thing’s lost. And that’s what makes grief so tough…you go through it alone.
It changes your perspective.
I now live in a world that my hero is no longer a part of. I now have to make decisions without my Dad’s advice. A large chapter of my life is finished & new chapters will be written without him…and that sucks. Your safe place feels shattered. I feel angrier at God than I’ve ever been & more lost than I’ve ever felt. I don’t remember the final words my Dad ever said to me & have been praying for that memory to be restored…it hasn’t come & that slices through me.
I know, in time, grief will be replaced by laughter. And I know it won’t happen after a month. I’m grateful for the distractions that have kept me busy; new job, warmer weather to be outdoors, new friendships, travel opportunities & a dog that keeps me going forward. And I’m so grateful for my family. This experience has brought us closer together & I know my Dad is proud.
I had a dream the other night about my dad & it brought me a lot of comfort. He was mowing the yard for an elderly man who was unable to do it himself. In my dream I knew that my dad had passed, but I watched him mow this man’s lawn without interrupting. I’ve been thinking a lot about this dream & trying to analyze it. And the conclusion I’ve come too…is that it was just a dream. And that’s okay. It was a simple reminder from a Dad to his daughter that even heaven needs people to cut grass.
In the middle of my grief, my Dad is still my hero. And he was a hero to that elderly man who needed someone to mow his lawn.
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