I know the blog post title might sound tacky, but I don't know...my emotions are all over the place.
Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for your kind words on my last post. Thank you.
I am doing OK.
Mostly I have been doing better than OK, bolstered by the knowledge that my Dad is free from the constraints of his mind and body.
I held his hand while he took his last breath.
I never imagined I could feel so honored while doing so.
But the grief, it hits in unexpected places.
Today in church, I noticed ahead of time that the last hymn to be sung was the same one sung at my Dad's funeral. I was prepared. I was ready.
Until I wasn't.
Minutes before the song was to be sung, I found myself whispering desperately to DH that I had to get out, to escape, because I just couldn't hear it.
I stumbled down the aisle, tears streaming down my face, and then sobbed in the bathroom, where the sound was piped in.
When I got a birthday card from my Mom, well, it was the first one that said "Love Mom" and there was nothing from Dad. He always wrote in my cards and I cherished his words (still have all the cards!), and the first year after the stroke he dictated to Mom what he couldn't physically write, but his words were 100% him. The last two years my Mom signed his name when he could no longer contribute anything.
"Love Mom" was all she could write this year.
I miss him.
And yes, I am so extremely grateful to still have my mother in my life.
I spent three years trying to forget my Dad as a physically active man who loved to talk finance, religion, and do crossword puzzles for hours (the hard ones, sometimes in ink). It was too hard to remember that Dad while adjusting to the new post-stroke Dad.
But now, now those memories are pouring in, and they are happy-sad. I guess that's what all the memories of those who have passed are--happy sad.
At any rate, we're all surviving. I'm another year older and hey, no big whoop, right?
I just wanted to check in.
I have so many emotions swirling around about genetics that are coming from a place I thought was long since gone, but losing your father will do that to you. It has nothing to do with my beautiful babies who couldn't be more perfect in my eyes, but I'm still sad to know my Dad isn't carrying forward in my family in a genetic way. It's silly, but it's still there. Sigh. And I'm just gutted with grief over what they've lost in terms of their genetic past. Gutted.
So yes, I'm running. Long meditative runs. They aren't any easier, but in that space I can talk to my Dad, process some of these emotions, and get my body ready for my upcoming race.
Thank you again, sorry for the all over the place post. My next one will be about baking, and kiddos, and happy and light stuff. It has to be.