It has been a long while since I have posted a blog. This is largely because I felt I was unable to share my thoughts. Having gone past the two year threshold I felt may be I am over indulging in my grief or better still wallowing.
I mentioned this to a good friend I told him I am running our of patience with myself I need to snap out of the sadness zone. I don’t need others to put pressure on me I do it myself.
I did the openly grieving of my loss and then reached a point of perhaps I was behaving like a ‘victim’. We live in a culture of being able to fix everything but certain aspects of life just cannot be fixed that is something I am beginning to realise and accept.
The hardest part of this journey of losing my Dad is that here I am living with this huge void in my life. My father was my rock, inspiration and strength so life without his towering presence is empty but I am still going about my daily life, going to work, taking care of me and other social commitments, attending to not so important yet necessary chores of routine life. In between all this I still have moments when I crumble and wonder why I am still here feeling the pain of his absence. Sometimes it is so palpable that it surprises me but I have to give myself credit for continuing to live pretending that all is well when in fact it is like I am eating food without any salt. My life purpose and meaning was all intertwined with my dear father that’s how important he was to my existence. Often I feel paralysed aching to hold his hand wondering if he has eaten and wondering if he needs me to comfort him as that is how our life was towards the end of his journey. I only really cared for him in the last 3 years of his life but I cannot seem to go past this point for we had a long life together when it was my father who looked after me.
I am still acutely aware of how many days it is since he passed. I hardly share this with others as I have resigned most people unless they have suffered a significant loss will not understand and why should they either. I am blessed there are a handful of people in my life who do care and do understand.
I have to still move forward but I will never get over losing him. This month I will mark what would have been my father’s 98th birthday. I always made a fuss on his birthday having a large group of people at our home was the norm. However, first time I feel I just want to mark this day with myself. I can’t seem to shift this feeling. I owe to myself as his passing is my loss and mine alone. I have already taken a bold step as I have pledged Dad’s mobility scooter and his wheelchair to a charity and these items will be collected on his birthday. I have not yet planned how I will mark this day but I will do something special in a low key fashion.
Ironically, though my Dad is not here in my physical world I always feel him by my side. I still talk to my Dad daily. For almost two years I was not able to paint my hand nails something I indulged in before and whenever I did paint my nails I would show them to my father. He would smile and tell me approvingly that I was mad! I have resumed this indulgence and I still show him my painted nails but to his photograph. He has never left me but it takes time to get used not having him in my physical world but I am getting there.
Someone said grieving is like a sacred pilgrimage. I would say it is also a tribute to love. It takes courage and strength to walk this journey but I feel humble and honoured that I was blessed to have such a wonderful father in my life and blessed to have walked the last 843 days. Life is a blessing and it is an honour to feel this raw pain for it is proof of a life well lived. Happy birthday my dear wonderful Pops.
© Daxa Patel