Tomorrow marks 7 years to the day when my amazing father left this physical world. 7 years of my life without him and with him. I know he lives on through me and in me yet sometimes I still miss him acutely, just like yesterday, today and no doubt time and time again. This feeling is part of me and will end I suppose when I leave this physical world. It’s a hole I can see and feel.
Two days ago, I was quietly pleased that my book came out ahead of my Dad’s anniversary, as planned and I still feel quite humble that so many of my friends have spent their hard-earned cash to buy this book, some have already finished the book and have been kind enough to share their feedback with me. Yet why is there this melancholy feeling of numbness which came on this Sunday? I wrote my affirmations to remind me of the many great things I am grateful for to cheer myself up. I even went for a longer than usual walk but still felt numb. I thought the feeling would pass but I found myself sat in the bay window in my Dad’s chair at 2.30am trying to work out my emotions of gratitude versus this feeling of numbness. I am calling it numbness because I don’t quite know how to label it with just one word. It is like a vacant hollowness that stops you from feeling the usual ebullient self. I know this is magnified by the enormity of reaching 7 years and also by the change I see in me.
7 years of learning to live, survive, and seemingly thrive.
I have become more aware of my emotions in the past 7 years largely because it has been hard work. So, in the middle of the night when I could not sleep, I sat down to write what I was feeling and I thought it’s been a long journey perhaps a bit of fatigue has set in but I should give myself a pat on the back because I have made it to my first summit. This is a personal milestone but dare I say well done to me ?
A friend reminded me of a line she read about grief. It went along the lines of grief is love with no place to go. I have noticed how my emotions can impact on my energy levels and on my body. Usually, I ache a lot and feel listless. During the hours of feeling numb I felt a blockage just above my sternum it was as though my throat was a vase overflowing with emotions. My choice was to either spill the contents of the vase so that the vase could stay standing or take some air in to gather its bearing. Metaphors can explain how we are feeling inside when it is hard to describe or even understand what is happening.
Yesterday, I met a friend we didn’t talk I wasn’t in the mood for a conversation, I felt lost, but he was patient, we stayed present. We parted after I was overcome with tears. I am not grieving anymore but yes; I do feel a sense of I have done really well but I miss my father also. I can’t help it and no matter what I achieve I will always feel the jagged edges of the large void left in my soul by my father.
Tomorrow the day will unfold as it should, I won’t resist what is and will do something to please my soul because by pleasing my soul I will do justice to my father’s memory and to our love which endures.
Christmas and the end of the year, particularly, this year dominated by the pandemic will be a relief to so many as it has been hard going on many fronts. For me, the 7-year milestone is a happy milestone of having reached a point I could not even see, let alone imagine I would reach. It would be remiss of me if I did not acknowledge all those who have helped me along the way, thank you my friends, you know who you are. I know my father will be very proud of me having reached this first summit, he would in fact say he had no doubt I would.
If you are going through a fog of pain, please remember many before us have survived through the torrid journey of grief. You too will find your own way to the first summit. Don’t give up on the love that broke you open because the person you are missing is willing you on to live.
Peace be with you.
29th December 2020