Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Friday Fill-in...on Tuesday...

I just found the Friday Fill-Ins blog!  This is from last Friday - #173:

1. Where are my leftover fishing-themed embellishments (I think there were leftovers...)?

2. If wishes were horses they would smell bad.

3. I'd like to see Men Who Stare at Goats and the iMax version of Alice in Wonderland.

4. When I was a teen, I thought people were dumb.

5. One of my mother's favorite sayings was ...um...I don't know...I don't think she has any....

6. I'd have a hard time doing without my MacBook.

7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to _____, tomorrow my plans include _____ and Sunday, I want to _____!

I'm skipping #7 since it's Tuesday.  

I'm kind of a hermit lately...I've been feeling very introspective and haven't felt like doing much of anything.  Meh.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Maybe a Flicker is Good Enough.

Back in January, I wrote a post about a *spark* that was somewhere inside me.

I don't know anymore...

I believe in the right to wallow.  The right to grieve, even if nobody gets it and it just looks like self-pity.  The right to let time work it's magic.

But, it has been a year.

One year and one day since my dad's funeral.  One year and six days since he died.  One year and nine days since we had the last thing resembling a conversation.

I guess I'm supposed to be moving on.  It's supposed to hurt less.  It's supposed to be easier.

I haven't and it doesn't and it's not.

Have I lost that *spark*?

Do I still have a *flicker* where it once was?

I don't know.

I hope so.

It's been so extremely painful lately.

It's nearly impossible to get motivated to do anything and even when I do, my attention span doesn't last much more than a half hour. 

Maybe I'm just in a funk. 

I sleep a lot - not so much at night, though.

The nights haven't gotten easier.

I've been wondering a lot lately about how my dad felt about leaving me.  Was he scared?  Did he worry I wouldn't be ok?  Did he hold on as long as he could for ME?

I'll never know.

Of course I know that he didn't WANT to die; that he didn't want any more pain; that he was exhausted...

I guess it's selfish for me to hope that he was scared to leave me.  Maybe I think that would prove that he loved me...

Of course I know he did.

But...I hurt so much.

I feel like I didn't just lose him - I lost my whole family.  That's what hurts the most, I think.  The anniversary of my dad's death has certainly gotten me down, but it's also gotten me thinking about lots of other things.

Things have been bad lately.  Not everything, but some really important things.  Things that leave me feeling like an orphan; like the ground is collapsing beneath me; like even though things will work themselves out, it will never, ever be the same...and I don't like that.

I know I'm loved.  I know I'm strong.  I know I'll be ok.

Knowing, believing those things doesn't make life easier.  They don't give me the solace I so desperately want.

I tend to think that I was too preoccupied with being brave and strong to grieve a year ago; that now I have the time - and the distance - to...focus on the grieving process.

And it is a process.  It's not the clean-cut stages - denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance - that seem to be the expected, "normal" way of dealing with it...
Grieving is a personal and highly individual experience. How you grieve depends on many factors, including your personality and coping style, your life experience, your faith, and the nature of the loss. The grieving process takes time. Healing happens gradually; it can’t be forced or hurried – and there is no “normal” timetable for grieving. Some people start to feel better in weeks or months. For others, the grieving process is measured in years. Whatever your grief experience, it’s important to be patient with yourself and allow the process to naturally unfold.
I read that here.  I think it sums up what I'm trying to say.

So many people have been wonderfully supportive and I can't begin to describe how much that's meant to me.  I know I'm not alone.  There are people who understand exactly how I feel and others who have no idea, but help just by being there.

Thank you.

I know what I need to do...and I will...One day at a time.

Thursday, April 15, 2010

Nothing should be this painful.

My dad's funeral...If you look close, you can see the little stuffed bunny my dad held till he died a year ago today - I sleep with it every night.