I am finally sitting down to write this post. I have attempted to do this for weeks and weeks but every occasion I try I would stop, as its a challenge to type these words.
My Dad lost his battle with cancer in January. Each time I say it or write it cuts me like a knife. At first, this all felt like a dream, a very very bad dream. I would wake up in the morning and take a moment to unravel my thoughts then realise it was not a dream, this had actually happened. The mornings were always the worst time of the day for me.
Getting used to this strange new normal
Every day I cry tears that cannot bring him back and all I have are the memories that I recall in an attempt to do so. I try and recall the memories, his voice, his laughter, his hugs. I stare at his favourite chair and catch myself checking if he is sitting in it. I am at odds with the fact that he is referred to in past tense.
People in their attempt to comfort me say to me that he has gone to a better place. With us here is the better place because he was not ready to die. He told me that in the weeks leading up to his passing. He loved being a father and told me that he still had so much to give his children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
My Dad was amazing and adjusting to him not being there at the end of the phone, not there to share the highlights of my day and to hear from him, giving me jokes is hard.
Although a spiritual person, I have questioned everything I thought I believed about death and the afterlife. All I know right now is that there are more questions than there are answers and from here on in life is going to be different.
Weeks have past and I have struggled to do the things and use the tools that in the past I would have relied on to take me out of a dark and emotional place. Such as meditation, deep breathing etc. I could feel myself spiraling, slipping into a painful sadness. The build-up this emotion felt like a pressure cooker about to explode, to the point where I made a call last week and I reached out for grief counseling.
Processing the process
Every day is different and I am taking each day as it comes. I am now meditating and trust this will help with the grieving process and the journey to getting back to my old self.
I want to thank my friends and family who are supporting through this time, especially my wonderful Husband, Tony and my children who have been there for me. To those of you who have reached out to me on social media and those who have understood that I may not have responded to calls and messages but know I appreciate your love and comforting words.
Until next time