My father died two years ago today.
I don’t really know what to expect, in terms of my emotions and what direction they will go in. Memories and conversation will abound as we gather and remember. I hope we can focus on the beautiful things.
I think I am safely past the falling down, traumatic, physically painful grieving that consumed me for well over a year. It doesn’t mean I don’t think about him, because there isn’t a day that goes by when he doesn’t cross my mind at least a dozen times. Now I find myself in a place of acceptance and peace. It does get better. Life will never be the same again, but it does have a way of moving on. Time does heal. In the face of unspeakable pain, we are all more resilient than we think.
I feel my father all the time. I see him when I witness something he would have loved, or hear something that would have given him immense joy. He comes to me in my dreams. In them he is young and vibrant, capable and strong, unaffected by illness and addiction. There is an immeasurable comfort in knowing his soul life is free of all of his earthly struggles.
As hard as it was at times when he was still with us, with anger, conflict and almost always feeling like we were at odds, now that he is gone from this physical place I know one thing to be absolutely true.
You can’t have this kind of pain without love.
And the opportunities to know and feel that love don’t end when death separates us.
Dad, your time here mattered. As alone as you felt at the end of your life, know that you are not alone today as we all think of you lovingly, picturing you with light and warmth around you, divinely held and at peace.
Our love for you will never end.