I realized this morning that it is 3 months today that my dad is gone. The good days are starting to outweigh the bad lately, and in the beginning I did not think that was possible. I am starting to be able to remember fun times and happy memories without tears attached.
Sleep which had eluded me for the last five months has started to come back with some regularity and although its not going to win any awards, my hair is very slowly coming in. It looks more like a boy’s bad crew cut at the moment, but at least there are no holes or patches. Hopefully the hole in my heart will continue to mend knowing that he is no longer suffering or in any pain. I had a dream about him the other night that he showed me how he is in heaven. He showed me who he has met and where he stays, as if he has an apartment there.
I have a hard time accepting why his time was so brief, although I know many are given a much shorter journey. I have a harder time listening to constant complaining from certain people when he was so positive. From the moment they walk into the office, it’s I’m tired, I’m cold, I miss…., just one complaint after the next and it’s all I can do to not stand up and scream.
The intermment has not happened, largely because no one is ready. The Celebration of life was hard enough. I can only try to move forward, be grateful for what I had, take a deep breath on hard days like today, and remember how much I was loved.