My dad died 4 weeks ago. It feels like ten thousand years and yet barely the blink of an eye.
I am a woman grown. I have had my life touched by death before. This death was not unexpected. In fact I had more than a year to get used to the idea of this unwelcome event looming in our futures. Yet I feel flattened, spun, undone.
There are days when I am full of peace, relief, gratitude and joy for having had my dad in my life, to have been so loved and to have loved. Others when I feel like I have nothing but cold, hard rocks inside. On other days I laugh without quite knowing why: smile at the gift of a blue sky it suddenly occurs to me not everyone will see.
I feel more than I have words for, more than I have strength to chew and digest. I am not quite sure I know who I am in the midst of this maelstrom.
There are days when it all seems impossible, the weight of emotion smothering. Yet at the same time this is a path that I have no choice but to walk, and having watched my dad wrestle with sickness and death, I think I owe his memory a little courage.
Such a loss somehow seems to leave us feeling entirely alone, even when we are surrounded by friends. Unheard when we are speaking, crying out. Reading other blogs has helped me feel a little bit less out on a limb and gave me a bit of a kick up the ass to try and go forward at least a few steps.
I hope this will be a place for me to write, laugh, cry, learn a little and start to find my way back into life through this death.