Wednesday, June 22, 2011
6/21/11
My father died a year ago today. Being that he died the day after Father's Day, and that I was surrounded and bombarded with Father's Day images, special offers, and consumerism all last week, I was feeling a little emotional and even had to hold back tears at a few random times, such as at work and on the train. I even cried while walking my dog.
But overall, I feel better today. I think it's because yesterday I realized something. Yesterday I realized that over the last year, of all the conflicting and complex emotions I have felt, the overwhelming one that eclipses all the others is the fact that I miss my old man.
I could take this fact and regret that it had been so long since we'd spoken and use it to beat myself up; or, I can be grateful for that feeling: to no longer be engulfed in anger or sadness -- just pangs of missing him.
I miss him because he was my daddy. I miss him because of all those pieces of me that were him. I miss him because he made me laugh. Perhaps most importantly, I miss him because he never judged me, always loved and accepted me, and always seemed proud --just of me existing.
A year ago I wrote that I hoped in your death I could forgive you. For now, missing you is enough. It gives me hope that I will get there, and that over time, things will continue to hurt even less and that only good memories will remain, memories of who you were, and who you wanted to be.
My father died a year ago today. Being that he died the day after Father's Day, and that I was surrounded and bombarded with Father's Day images, special offers, and consumerism all last week, I was feeling a little emotional and even had to hold back tears at a few random times, such as at work and on the train. I even cried while walking my dog.
But overall, I feel better today. I think it's because yesterday I realized something. Yesterday I realized that over the last year, of all the conflicting and complex emotions I have felt, the overwhelming one that eclipses all the others is the fact that I miss my old man.
I could take this fact and regret that it had been so long since we'd spoken and use it to beat myself up; or, I can be grateful for that feeling: to no longer be engulfed in anger or sadness -- just pangs of missing him.
I miss him because he was my daddy. I miss him because of all those pieces of me that were him. I miss him because he made me laugh. Perhaps most importantly, I miss him because he never judged me, always loved and accepted me, and always seemed proud --just of me existing.
A year ago I wrote that I hoped in your death I could forgive you. For now, missing you is enough. It gives me hope that I will get there, and that over time, things will continue to hurt even less and that only good memories will remain, memories of who you were, and who you wanted to be.
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