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Missing My Dad

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It’s supposed to get easier, right?

Tomorrow is the second Father’s Day without my dad, and without a doubt, this year is SO much harder. 

The mere sign of a Father’s Day card sends the waterworks flowing.

I spoke with an old friend yesterday who lost her mom last week. I told her to give herself all the firsts that the next year would bring her way.

So, here I am on my second Father’s Day without dad feeling like a mess.

Perhaps I am FINALLY giving myself a chance to grieve?

My brother-in-law’s mom passed away suddenly last week at 76, making my mom my niece’s only surviving grandparent. Truly unbelievable considering her health and that everyone thought she’d be the first to go.

My reaction to this most recent death was startling to me. Don’t get me wrong: I admired this woman tremendously, she was always good and generous and inclusive to my husband and me. But my reaction startled me. I couldn’t stop crying.

My take is that I didn’t HAVE TO be strong for everyone else like I have been with my folks. So, I let myself go. I wanted to be there for my sister and her family, and I was, but my tears embarrassed me.

I was so proud of my sister and my niece, spilling their hearts about their mother and grandmother. I sat there silently, shoulders heaving. 

Part of it also (and there is MAJOR guilt about this), is that I’m angry. Angry that mom, despite her health challenges, is the sole remaining grandparent. HOW did that happen? I can see the same unspoken question in my sister, niece and brother in law’s face as well.

It has all happened so close to father’s day that I cry at the drop of a hat.

Tomorrow, I’m guest blogging for a friend’s watch blog. I’ll repost it here.

Then I’ll get in my dad’s car, top down, with his watch and his ashes and drive to Dunkin’ Donuts for breakfast–just like we used to do–missing him even more.

 

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~ by Butch on June 14, 2014.

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