It's been approximately three months since my daddy suddenly died. I'm not sure exactly how long its been because I find the day he died to be utterly meaningless. For me, to put a focus on the day i lost him, puts a shadow on the brilliant life he lived. I would rather focus on his presence on the earth, not his absence from it. Though his absence ripples through my soul every day.
I have lost loved ones before, but nothing as shattering as his loss. He was my best friend. My sounding board, we talked nearly every day. He knew everything about me, even that stuff you don't usually tell your parents. There was no topic off limits to him. He was my rock and I'm still trying to figure out how to live without him. I wasn't prepared. I don't think I ever would have been. Grief is weird. At first, I just wanted to purge things out of my life. Stuff, people, things that didn't matter. It was like his loss laser focused me on who, and what, was important in my life. Everything else was meaningless and had to go. I'm convinced God does this so you can handle the immediate need of going through your loved ones belongings. It was during this time that I went to Forks to do just that. I had an amazing support system there and was able to get through all of it. I had grand plans to continue to purge once i got home... but then the Silence hit. The Silence. I don't know what else to call it. I was like winter in my soul. Barren, cold, and quiet. It amazing how quiet winter really is. There are no singing birds, no croaking frogs or loud bugs. So the silence of the winter outside had crept inside me. I shut down. I didn't want to talk to anyone about my daddy unless I knew they lost a parent, child or spouse or knew him well. Other people meant well, I just didn't have it in me. The suitcases I brought home from my dads house with his stuff in it still remained unopened. I stopped writing about him. My husband even tried to get me to talk, but I had nothing to say. Only Silence. I couldn't write, I couldn't create. I didn't push myself, I understand that I have to go through this however I need to. At that point I obviously needed to be on the couch, depressed, quiet and in hibernation. Then last week, the first bird of the season chirped outside my window. It sounded foreign and strange after such a long, quiet winter. I felt a stirring in my heart. Trinity needed a skirt for a dance she was doing on a camping trip. She hadn't asked me to make her one, but I knew what she wanted. It was like all of a sudden an light switch turned back on. So I ran to the store, got the fabric, came home and started to sew it. For the first time in a long time, I felt alive. The next day, I got more fabric and made her another one. It felt so good to create again. To feel more like myself again. I feel myself wanting to write again. To garden, to do the things that I love to do. As the trees are budding outside and waking from their dormant sleep, I feel like I am slowly awakening as well. I'm still not ok. But slowly one singing bird will become two. Before you know it there will be a chorus of summer sounds filling the air, and my silence will be replaced with life again. I will be ok, just never the same. "Life is for the living" as my dad used to say. And though I am sad, I will not live in that sad space forever.
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AuthorI'm so tired. The children are so not tired. |