Approaching two years without you

Hi Dad,

This time of year just sucks.  It will always suck.  As the buds on trees slowly emerge.  As the ground thaws and the birds speak up.  These things will always remind me of the saddest, scariest, most awful day of my life.  The day you left us.  I still find it hard to navigate without you.  I wish you were here to see so many things, to talk about life, to share experiences.  I need your advice on a couple things dad, but you aren't here to talk to anymore.  I need to hear your voice.  I need to feel the comfort that came with being beside you.  Sometimes I can't find it.  I even find it hard to remember and I feel so alone.

Yes, for the most part, I am ok.  We are all ok.  But somedays I am not ok.  Today is one of those days.

What is it like wherever you are?  Are you comfortable and happy?  Are you peaceful and calm?  Are you seeing everything that is happening here in my life?  Do you see how Mateo is these days? What do you think?  Is he going to be ok?  What do you think is going on?  Is he just being a regular little boy, testing my limits?  Or is something wrong?  I would really love to hear what you think.  I know you would just take him to the park and play catch with him and he would be so happy.  You would take away his burdens, his worries, his troubles.  You would let him just be a boy, playing ball and goofing around.  You would remind him that it is important to be good.  You would joke around with him and trick him into doing the right thing.  He looked up to you. He loved hanging out with you.  You were one person who just played ... just let him be .... it was so easy and simple and nice.

Life is overwhelming me these days.  I feel like I am drowning slowly and can't get my head above water.  I am scared and lonely and sad.  Hopefully it is just today .... and the pain will pass again.

May 8th approaches.  Mother's day.  I am dreading it.  It never really gets any easier.

All I hope is that you are at peace.  You deserve that.
I miss you more than I would ever be able to express.  It is a deep wound that will never heal.

Love your sunshine ... not so sunny today :-(

6 months later ....

Hi Dad,

We are approaching the 6 month mark of living without you and I can say that it still sucks, a lot.  I can't believe that I haven't seen you, or enjoyed a conversation with you in 6 months.  I have meagrely navigated life without my beacon that always flashed quietly and steadily in the distance of my daily life.  You were always there when I needed you.  Now, there is a vacancy that causes sadness, stress, emptiness, loneliness, some anxiety and a great deal of pain. 

I don't blog very often.  Because it takes me to a very sad and painful place that I need to have the time and emotional capacity to handle.  And life is just too busy and demanding to be able to do that very often.  The kids keep me busy.  Mateo is struggling a bit with his behaviour at school.  He has been less than respectful and well-behaved these past months.  He has made bad decisions that land him in the principals office.  We worry about him and I often wish you were here to talk to him.  He has lost one of the most wonderful role models a little boy could ever have.  And he is sad.  He misses his Grandpa every day.  He talks about you every day.  He still cries a lot.

I talk to him about integrity and honor.  I tell him that those are the things that Grandpa had and that we must all live up to what he was and what he taught us to be.  He seems to understand and some days I think he is really trying. I don't really worry for his long term well being because I think he does have a good heart and will find his way.  He will always hold his memories of you close to his heart.  He talks about when you 'babysat' him on a sick day, just one month before you died.  He wasn't really that sick and you spent the day with him and made him do some 'homework' that you prepared for him.  While Mateo pretended to think it was unfair, I know he actually enjoyed your pseudo-strict act with him.   That day, you made him lunch and told him stories of your days in the RCMP over lunch.  You told him about the criminals and the prison at the police station and he listened so intently that he had nightmares that night.  That was you Dad, a devoted Grandpa, a passionate ex-RCMP officer, a man of true integrity and honor.

How lucky we all were to call you our own dad, grandpa, husband, father-in-law.  You taught us that if you live your life well, you will live on forever.

 

I am grateful for you.  You made me happy.  You still nourish my soul, Dad, and guide me through life by the lessons you taught me, the way you lived, the man you were.

 

I love you and miss you so much, still, 6 months later.

 

Love your sunshine.

Coming home

Hi Dad,

We got home from our European vacation about 10 days ago and I must say, I am glad to be home.  Being on holiday was surprisingly miserable for me.  Because I thought of you constantly.  And cried a lot.

Now, I am back home, back to work, back to the routine of life and keeping busy.  Just the way I like it.  Just the way you liked it too.  You were not a traveller.  No desire to be anywhere other than in your home, in your neighbourhood, in your city, with your family.  When I reflect on that now, I think you must have been incredibly at peace with your life.  You were not someone to search for things.  You didn't need adventure and new sights and sounds all the time.

I think that is awesome.  In the real and literal sense of the word ... awesome.  It is rare and unique and undervalued and special.

I learned so much from you, Dad.  A lot of which I am learning now, after you are gone.

I miss you so much.  I think of you a million times a day and just want to pick up the phone and call you.  I want to tell you about my day.  I want to tell you about my experiences and hear the pride and interest in your voice. 

I want to be home.  I mean, home in my heart.  I am in a foreign place as I walk through the world without you.  Nothing feels right or comfortable without you.

I hear that time heals.  So I will wait.

I love you, Dad.
Your sunshine
xo

Don't wait ....

Dear Dad,

We were sitting together on that summer evening a few years back, looking out at the muskoka sunset over the lake. I told you that one day, when I am retired, I will spend my days in a setting like this enjoying something creative - painting or making jewellery - doing what I like to do. At that time, I was in a job that brought me no satisfaction.  You surprised me with your firm advice - "don't wait". You told me that there were a lot of things you wished you had done rather than waiting to do when you retired. Like going on a bike tour, maybe through the Cabot trail.  You spoke of regret and that now it was too late for you. It surprised me because you were always of the conservative pursuation - keeping things stable and secure. Not a risk taker. But I heard your advice, loud and clear, and have never forgotten it. 

You died on a Thursday evening. The following days were a blur. Visitors arriving from all parts. Sadness so thick that I couldn't see ahead of myself. Funeral arrangements, phone calls, obituary, sorrow ..... Deep, deep sorrow. Visitation on Monday. Funeral on Tuesday. Goodbyes to visitors.  By the weekend it was silence and emptiness. I went back to work on the Monday. Some thought it was soon and I should take more time but I wanted to get back. I needed a distraction from my new reality. And as you know, I like my "new" job. There is something I am thankful for - that you were alive to see me change jobs to something I enjoy.  I know that it was hard for you to see me in a job I disliked for so long. You advised me not to leave the civil service though - again, your conservative side spoke. I am glad I listened to that. Now I have a job I like, and found my creative pleasures in my on-line jewellery shop, of which you were so supportive.  You were always so supportive of everything I did. Do you know how much strength and confidence you gave me?

I can only hope that now, as a parent myself, that I can give the kids what you and mom gave my brother and I - unconditional love and support. 

What am I going to do now, going forward in life, without you to talk to about things?  No one will listen and love me like you did. I guess I will need to draw on the 41 years I had with you and all the love you gave will carry me through. It won't be easy but it will be ok ................. eventually. 

Love your sunshine

Dear Dad, I miss you.

Dear Dad,

When I was a little girl, you called me your sunshine. You always made me feel so safe, and loved, and protected. How blessed I was to have you as my dad. 

I will never forget that evening in early May.  It was a day I knew would come eventually and I dreaded its arrival. The phone call from mom, the look on Kaya's face, him shaking his head at me when he said "it's your dad". I knew that was it. The dreaded day had arrived. 

The scene was out of a movie and I felt like I was watching from afar. Watching in slow motion as the police officer said the words "I am so sorry for your loss". Mom cried and said "he is gone, Shannon".  I crumpled to the ground as if I'd been puched in the stomach. I wanted so badly for someone to be wrong. I wanted it to be just a close call. I wanted, more than anything, to wake up, shaken with the realization that I needed to treasure each moment with you before you are gone. But that didn't happen. I didn't wake up. It wasn't a mistake. It was real. It was my new reality. You were gone. Really gone. 

I always knew it would be difficult. I wondered how I would go on without you. Now, nearly 3 months have passed and I can say that it is more difficult than I ever could have imagined. I miss you more than can be put into words. Yet, I am hoping that the words I write here will help me heal. Maybe too, if anyone else ever reads them, maybe my journey will help someone else who has lost their dad. Because as much as it aches now, and as much as somedays I think I will never be happy again, I do still have faith that time will heal and that someday I will think of you and not feel my heart is broken into pieces. 

For now, the pain I feel everyday is so deep. It is a hollow and dark feeling like I have never known. Some days, it hurts to breathe. The tear ducts are wide open all the time. Just a thought of you and I feel the pressure and tingling in my face. I swallow hard to fight back tears.  I inhale deeply to try to fill my lungs with oxygen. Trying to replace the pain. Trying to fill the void you have left behind. 

I know you had to go. And I am grateful for the way you went. It was the way a man like you deserved to go. Peacefully. Easily. Gently. In your home. In your sleep. 

But I miss you. So much. 

Love your Sunshine