My father would have turned 69 today. He unfortunately passed away over one and a half years ago and his loss is still so raw. I miss him every single day. Even now, a song in the car will remind me of him and bring me to tears. I will often see a man who resembles him and I’ll stare at him intently, drinking in every feature. I know he’s not my father, but I’m so desperate to see him, that I’ll suspend reality for a second or two.
Grief can be all encompassing. Even though most days I function like a normal human being, I’m always aware of his absence. So many of us have lost a significant other in our lives and I wonder how we all keep functioning? I wonder how long this will last or will I always exist with this never ending grief? Will it fade over time? my memories of him pushed to the furthest recesses of my mind as more memories are being created.
I know that everyone I know and love will eventually die. I know that I will die one day too. My analytical and scientific brain can comprehend this, but my heart could never reconcile their loss. I don’t believe you can ever truly recover from the loss of a parent. How can you recover from losing someone who has been there for you your whole life? He always had a few words of wisdom, or a pat and a stroke of my head, a careless kiss grazing my forehead.
I feel an endless sadness that he left this earth too soon; that he never got to hold and kiss his newest grand daughter, or that my three year old probably won’t remember him. He loved little babies with a passion. He would always smell their little heads, loving their baby smell. He’d insist they grasp his finger in their chubby little hand. I can picture him so clearly, holding my baby daughter and shedding a few tears of joy as he leant down to kiss her head.
Even though I am filled with sadness today, I’m so forever thankful that he was my father. I’m thankful that I got to spend thirty-eight years of my life with him. He was a wonderfully loving, gentle and caring human being who cared so much about the world and its inhabitants. So Dad, wherever you are, happy birthday. I’ll raise a glass of wine tonight in your memory, thankful for the time we had, but missing you like hell.