I have pictures to post, of course, along with the pictures from our trip last week. But my heart is not really in it.
It is not in anything, really.
The break was nice - to be forcefully separated from the world for 2.5 days was an unexpected luxury. All that was to be done was hike and look at scenery and hike some more.
On the other hand - and I am conscious enough of the fact - it was also a handy tool to keep my grief at bay.
It did not raise its head again until after I was home from the hike, having showered and made dinner and washed my clothes. Sitting on the coach, reading, I suddenly found my eyes were filled with tears.
Why? No idea. There is nothing particularly mystical about eating pizza. It is certainly not something I specifically associate with my father. Yet here I was, in tears on the couch for no discernable reason.
Grief, as more than one person has written (as have wise people in the blog comments), is a process. Not really being a process person and more of a results person, I dislike processes. I just want to be done with things and move on.
Apparently, this is yet another gift my father now offers me - the first of many, I suspect, he will offer me from the grave.
It isn't good to try and put the feelings aside, your subconscious wants to deal with them. Speaking to your wife or a good friend about your feelings should help resolve them.
ReplyDeleteYou miss your Dad - nothing wrong with that. From what I've read in the past, you fulfilled your obligation in watching over him in his declining years.
I hope you feel better soon.
Thank you. To be honest, I spoke with The Valkyrie last night and the conversation went the same. I have been reaching out to people to talk - really, I suppose, to "get permission" to grieve.
DeleteI do miss my father. I can at least say that so far as I know, we left none of the important things unsaid.
After my Dad's death I found that I was more emotional, watching movies with tear-jerker scenes now resulted in tears welling up whereas watching the same movies in times prior to his passing had no such results. Almost six years now, Dads last gift......
ReplyDeleteNylon12, I suspect I have much of the same coming as well. I just well up with tears now, watching nothing.
DeleteGifts from beyond the grave.
ReplyDeleteMy mental voice could not decide whether it wanted to be Rod Serling, or Vincent Price while reading back the above sentence.
The voice is still on the fence.
It's been a tiny bit over forty years now, and when I now think about the gifts my dad gave me, I find myself staring into the computer screen and not really seeing it.
I realized I have a quirky half smile on my face, and I was remembering a time when I was very young and helping him while he was drilling holes in some metal. My job was to use the oil can and oil the drill bit when directed to.
The smell of heated oil was both imaginary and strong.
And now my smile is huge and there is a tiny bit of eye misting.
He gave me so many gifts.
It would make a great Twilight zone episode John, you are exactly right (he mutters to himself, thinking of a short story).
DeleteI sit at his table now, looking down the backside of the hill to a land he worked 2/3s of his life to acquire and take care of. In that sense, he is all around me. But it is those smaller things that I will need to keep with me and be attentive to. I am sure they are there.
I can ditto John in Philly. So many gifts. But don't short circuit the grief. It will run it's course in due time. Like always, I have a short story to illustrate.
ReplyDeleteWhen mom got sick, we drove all night after working all day. We got the hospital about 0700, and were ushered in. We visited for several hours. I was up for 36 hours straight. I passed out in the waiting room, only to be awakened an hour later. That was the tone for the week. Mom passed early the next day. I had so little sleep I was a zombie. I couldn't emote. When it came, my grief lasted for nigh on ten years as it dribbled out, mostly at inopportune times. Give it time and let it do it's work. Pushing it off isn't wise.
Praying for you and the clan, TB.
Thanks STxAR. I will try to take it to heart. I am wondering if what I am coming to understand is a long slow burn out is also playing a factor here.
DeleteYes, I still get those random teary eyes now and then almost four years later. But as I said before, I now embrace them now that the hole left in my heart is worn a little smoother around the edges.
ReplyDeleteEd, I take comfort in this. Thank you for sharing.
DeleteBeautifully said, Ed. Very clear illustration and it rings true.
DeleteLet it come when you are alone with God. Thought perhaps you might find a place on your hike; but God knows best.
ReplyDeleteBlessings and comfort to you all, TB.
Linda, I am definitely not trying to engage anything, but let it come. I am at The Ranch this week; it is hitting me harder as all the pictures I have placed at the computer desk are of him and my mom.
DeleteThe only thing that feels (to me) worth saying is, I'm reading and appreciating whatever processing you share here.
ReplyDeleteThanks Becki. Honestly, that is part of why I write it. I know that the overall experience has helped others; hopefully this will as well.
Delete