Today, for no particular reason, I am missing my father something awful. Grief is a bitch. Some days I’m fine; can take on the world, other days I’m just loathsome and sad. I try to keep in the tears, but then my heart feels like it is going to explode. Grief really is a bitch.
Shock and denial: I didn’t believe that my father was dying, I just kept thinking he’s going pull out of this horrendous situation. Some people live through a stroke, right? But not my dad.. Way too serious of a situation. And I know he suffered. He suffered for at least 48 hours. In that stupid hospital. Not fair at all to lose a healthy, 48 year old man. Or to see the man I never thought would be in such a vulnerable position, struggling to live. Broke my heart.
Anger: After the fog cleared, I was pissed off. Pissed off at my dad for not getting the surgery he needed when he was first informed he needed it. I was pissed off at overly obese people walking around. I was pissed off at old people for still being alive and my dad wasn’t. Why in the fuck?!?! Mostly, I was pissed (more heart broken), that my son will never know his pawpaw. But at least my dad knew him; he died right before my son turned three months old.
Depression and Detachment: To add to the awfulness of being post partum and grieving over my father, we were also in the process of moving. And we were moving over an hour and a half away from family and friends. I was at home with my son everyday (which I cherish), but I was miserable, paranoid, and sad. I had no energy, no faith in myself (or anything for that matter). I just wanted to sleep, sleep, sleep because I was so depressed about the grief I was feeling. But my son and my husband kept me strong, and still do. I also had my sisters, mother, and brother to worry about as well, and I was too far away. I was a sad, pathetic person, not knowing what to do, or where to go.
Dialogue and Bargaining: I still struggle with finding the meaning to this horrible thing that happened to my dad. But I have also found, that over time, its easier to talk about my dad and how he died. It helps my soul. Helps me to believe that he is close when I talk about him, or think about him.
Acceptance: I have accepted my father’s passing, I hate it, but I accept it. Some days its harder than others, but I smile knowing that he is watching over us. I truly think that my son knows my dad now, because he is with him (and the little shit acts just like him).
Returning to a Meaningful Life: Its taken a long while, but I am enjoying life for what it is. I love being with my family, enjoying my hobbies, working… Life is back to normal and that is nice. But I still wish my dad was here. He gives me the strength and empowerment I need to keep pushing forward.
Please, always tell those you love that you love them, and always, always cherish every minute you get with them. Life is a bitch sometimes, and those who are here with us today, may not be here tomorrow.