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The first few months after someone dies, people rally around you. They check up on you. They worry about you. They tell you it will be ok. Then, time goes by and people who aren't directly connected, they forget. It is less prominent in their lives, and they don't think about it as much, if at all. But the people who lost someone, they don't forget. Every day is different for them. Every moment is a reminder that something, someone, is missing.

I guess people think I should be "done" grieving by now. I don't believe that time heals all wounds. I don't believe that things will ever be "ok" ever again. My Dad was my best friend and my parent who raised me and cared for me for 30 years - who called me everyday to see how I was - who brought me Gatorade and movies when I was sick - who was proud of me when I did something great and there for me when I totally fucked up - who always told me he loved me, every time we talked.

Death makes you realize, no human is replaceable. All those little things combine to make a person you can never, ever forget.

I don't know who 'they' are, but they've obviously never lost someone close to them because 'they' don't understand... there is no expiration date on grief. It comes in waves, smells, words of strangers, the father in the supermarket who swings their kid around in a playful hug or calms them when they cry, the old man and the middle-aged one out fishing together, his favorite candy, or a tv show.. I know that, even if I live to be 90 years old, I will still cry for Dad. I will still think of him every day. It will still hurt... and I will never be 'done' missing him.


Nov. 4th, 2008 01:04 am (UTC)
Exactly, I miss my Daddy every single day, and nobody understands that. Nobody understands how hard it is and how much I miss him, even if we didn't always get along. He was my Daddy and he was there for me.


Dad's hand
Missing Dad

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