There are days when certain small things happen: A certain song plays on my Pandora station, someone says a phrase to you, a photo pops up on Facebook. These tiny things seem so small, but have such a large impact on the day.
This post is not bout me being morbid or is it about me feeling sorry for myself. Over the past six months since my dad died, I feel like I've made progress in the grieving process. But THEN, something tiny happens and it sends my day into a whirlwind. I've also come to realize that when someone you love dies, you don't don't just have to say goodbye to them at the time they pass, but also at every crossroad. I've discovered that there are endless firsts and tough moments to get through, not just obvious ones like holidays and big events, but many others that are equally challenging to struggle through under the blanket of grief.
Losing a parent has been the most difficult thing I've dealt with. It's strange that I have seen family and friends lose parents but haven't heard much from them about what it's been like. As I travel through the firsts and other moments in the midst of sadness and loss, I'm forced to let go, one finger at a time. Some milestones like my 40th birthday, Christmas and Easter have been super hard, but some of the most difficult ones to get past are one's I didn't see coming
When my grandfather died, I knew it was hard for my dad. He would talk about him and tell me childhood memories of him. But I never saw him cry or exhibit pain over the loss. I assumed that because my grandfather was elderly when he died, losing him was just a part of growing older and that people had it in them to deal with that.
I have had friends lose parents. They seemed very strong in dealing with it. I never head anything from them about the difficulties they faced dealing with the loss. Again, the impression I got was that it was a normal phase of life that we go through and we're built to deal with it.
Flashback moments have been hard. The first time someone else passed away after my dad had passed away was one of my friends' mothers. I was all dressed and ready to go to the funeral to support her, but couldn't get my feet to move. I stayed home and cried on the kitchen floor. When I hear about friend's losing their parents, I flash back to how I felt. Or when I see grandfather's holding their new grandchildren. I flashback to when dad was happily rocking my newborn son in the rocking chair at the hospital. The biggest smile on his face. He was so proud. There's the flashback of him singing songs and me realizing I will never hear him singing again except in my dreams. One of the toughest flashbacks is walking into my parent's home. Walking in there and knowing he's not there and never will be again. My mind is constantly pulled back to another time. Sometimes it is to a happy time, but more often it's to darker days that let me know I am still heavily in the midst of grieving.
I'm learning it's not as easy as people make it seem to be. It doesn't matter how old you are or your parents when they die, their passing is one of the most difficult things in the world to deal with. And it's crazy that people all around you tend to hold in their emotions while in front of others. People (I) seem to think that I need to be strong for others. I do this all the time. I don't want my kids to know I'm in pain over the loss of their grandfather, I don't think they've seen me cry over his loss. If they are around and my dad is brought up, I'll put on a strong face, and even a smile, and talk about him lovingly.
So has it gotten easier six months on? Nope. Not for me. I had a couple of good weeks where I felt the pain was easing. Most significantly, I stopped thinking of my dad as I saw him in the last hours of his life. Covered in blankets, skin sunken in, groaning in pain. That phase was the most difficult and unfortunately those images still enter my mind from time to time. About 2 months after his death I started getting more normal images of my dad when I thought of him. Smoking his pipe with me on his lap when I was a young child, my dad working in the yard (one of his passions), going arrowhead hunting and getting lost in corn fields with him. The sudden weeping hadn't stopped, but it became less frequent and less intense.
I experience stinging moments, the moments that rub salt into my wounds. The times when I am watching TV and the story line is one in which a character is dying or has cancer. When I close my eyes to go to sleep at night and all I can picture is the image of my dad's frailty at the end. The times when I'm searching for a contact on my phone and his name pops up. One saving grace for me has been bike rides. The first time I went for ride after my dad died, I got about a mile from my house and the tears started. Being there on the road by myself, away from distractions and so aware of the empty space beside me, was tough. The first time we gathered for a family holiday, with one less. We can all feel dad's absence so strongly. The first time I did something that I knew he would be proud of and I had to feel his pride in my heart because I couldn't hear it in his voice or see it in his eyes. The time when I needed to ask him a question and he wasn't there to give the answer that only he knew.
But six months later it seems I'm going through another phase. It's the worst when I'm driving to work and alone and a certain song comes on or someone says something to me that reminds me of him (who am I kidding, I can mostly trace everything back to dad and relate it somehow). I've also been dreaming about dad a lot. In all my dreams, he's laying in his bed under blankets, sunken skin and groaning in pain. They are not pleasant dreams. Sometimes he wakes up and looks at me and says, "Love you kid." The last words he said to me when he was still cognizant.
I also experience stand-in moments: Moments when I have to do things my dad should've been here to do: Worry about my mom, tell his grandchildren he is proud of them, give my mom the advice she thinks he would be giving were he still here.
I wish people shared more things they go through when they experience happy and difficult times. Just to know that you are not alone, that other people have felt what you are feeling. So many things we go through are just a normal part of this journey and sharing those things and having people share them with you helps along the way.
Losing my dad at the ripe age of 39 was one of the most difficult things I've had to deal with. Being able to share with you all has made it just a tiny bit easier.
