Grieving my own path - Part 1. Take a Seat Dad.

5th June 2020. 12 days after….

part 1. 

When someone has passed away, they will mostly seen in waves. They will ONLY appear in thoughts. I’ve been able to help process my understanding of dad’s breaking news on us. Unlike some death we will experience, dad’s was completely unexpected and in part of this first post series; I am still breathing disbelief that dad is no longer a living soul, but a living memory encaged in my head.

I allow dad to come into my head like waves rising and falling calmly. I do not force a wave of dad, but naturally they will arrive at a moment’s notice. Just by simple thoughts like a song, or a memory or even a food choice. I choose what I do when dad comes into my head. I have allowed dad a special access point in my head. It is neither closed fully but it is not obviously open either. Dad is therefore welcome to entre my thoughts whenever he and I choose. I have not blocked or denied access. 

I can see dad arrive and decide that, sometimes, I would like him to sit in my head. Pull a chair at the table and join me for a conversation or to revisit a memory together. Sometimes, when dad sits, his heavy heart can pull my head into a deep puddle of water. That’s when I start to feel that overcoming wave of emotions flood to the surface and it hits the peak height of aching before I can let that wave settle again. That’s okay.The water that I am being pulled is one that makes me have all the love and closeness I have for dad. So although it’s a sad pull down, it’s one where I get to really feelagain. I can feel the pain grip my emotions, which is sometimes not a moment I can even capture for me to breathe through, I have to ride the wave. I almost feel that I am sitting next to dad when he takes his time at the table. Thank you for taking a seat with me Dad.

Sometimes when Dad comes walks through my head, I see him stroll and he gives me a subtle smile and waves as he carries on walking by, I wave back to acknowledge that he has arrived and that he has made an effort to see me, but he doesn’t choose to stay. Dad in my head when he passes by has not been ignored or even brushed aside, because I give notice to him moving by. He doesn’t need a seat for me to feel.I also like that sentiment because that means dad has come to visit me but he hasn’t had to get comfortable under the table and start to make me remember which might cause that pulling wave experience. It is a less tide motion and more a small ripple effect by the water’s edge. 

Sometimes when dad walks past, he is smiling, so this a friendly reminder of a lighter moment of thought. This gives me a chance to exhale through my outlooks of Dad’s news to me, because I can still process without being distressed. 

I don’t mind how you come into my head dad. Whether its to come and sit with me or just to wave and walk. I don’t mind, because I just want you in my head for now. I haven’t closed the door as not seeing you at all would be forcing you away. I don’t want you to leave yet, so visit me as much as you can. Your visits mights become less, but you may stay longer. I don’t mind as long as you’re in my mind right now.

‘The people we lose still live through us. Everything we do, say, are….

Is shaped by what we have absorbed from them. Picture a moment when you laughed together. Think of one thing you were taught by them. Remember a discussion you once had. These memories are the legacy of loss. That we absorb these moments and can reply them, means the ones we lose are never far from us. None of us can stay. The shortness of life is cruel. But the strength of human connection – love – is what means we endure in the hearts of others after we are gone.’ 

Part 1.