It's been nearly 2 months since dad died. Now I can sit back and look at all that has happened. I can only describe watching someone you love with terminal cancer, die before you, as a hurricane hitting the house with everyone inside. We could see it coming but boy, it knocked us off our feet.
We clung on to each other scared, terrified, afraid at this monster that raged past us, destroying everything that was safe and secure. There were moments of calm. When we could talk even laugh and joke together, precious times. Then it would come back stronger more angry and then. BANG. Quiet. We looked around and dad was gone. It had taken him. So here we are picking up the pieces, getting on with life still stunned at what has happened.
I cried so much before dads death but hardly any after. I grieved watching my dad fading before my eyes. Having no control. I think I was afraid of dad dying. But at the end it was all I wanted. The truth was it wasn't dad. He had gone along time ago. After he died I felt relief and a release. I had said all that I wanted to say, done all that I could have done. I felt a strange peace.
I don't feel angry just really sad. The thing that gets me most is the silence. So much to talk about. Like my daughter learning to swim, starting her new year at school. That long silence stretching out forever it really unnerves me.
Is there a message here. I don't know. All I can say is. Say all you have to say. Do all you can do. Have no regrets and keep holding on.
