I have been struggling to cope since my father passed away. I never really had time to grieve. Today he would have been 61. Why is 61 hitting me so much harder than last year and 60?
Because I am a glutton for self-punishment and refuse to show weakness to my family and anyone other than my closest friends. I even wrote my first blog about it. I can tell you why… with the sudden unexpected death of my father in law subsequent family based downward spiral, life has not slowed down enough for me to really let go of the emotions. I have been raging with emotions since my husbands suicide attempt back in January.
To compound my raging emotions and my pain from my father being gone, my son is a mini version of my father. Its scary really how much alike he is to his grandfather. He is gregarious, outgoing, outspoken, and stubborn. He is funny and annoying and loving and sometimes vindictive. He is a mini version of my father, and thereby a mini version of me. I see myself fighting with my son the way I used to with my own dad. Pushing him 5 steps forward to have him bulldozing me three steps back. Setting an agenda and him setting his own pace. I think that is what has made this pain so much more real and so much harder. I think since we are settling into our new temporary home and our new routine I am finally allowing myself to feel. And I hate it. I f***ing HATE it. I hate feeling the tears. I hate showing weakness. I am the backbone. I hate it. But I guess it is time for me to face it. So here we go.
Two years of tears cried out in a few days time. Feeling pain and owning it as mine.
Searching for answers inside of my soul. Pushing back pain and feeling un-whole.
Days go by, smiles come and fade. Telling the sadness to go, but not being obeyed.
Feeling him daily right by my side, so much more to have said before he had died.
Raising a miniature version of him inside his grandson,
and reliving as a parent, fights as a child I never won.
His birthday is here, though it’s come and gone before,
this season the pain seems overwhelmingly more.
Each moment my son falters, each time we have fights,
I remember similar battles with my father on insomnia filled nights.
A mini version of my father in my son’s smiling face
A heart loving too much for one tiny space.
Birthdays in heaven. It’s too far away.
Two years of tears now flowing, in just a few days.