I worry that…
- I will forget to make myself undiscoverable on Tinder.
- Someone will hit me in the nose during a well-intentioned hug.
- I won’t get enough Old Forge-style pizza or naps.
- Mom will suggest seeing the movie, Carol. I do not want to see Carol with you, Mom.
- I will cry every day I am back home, missing Dad. He loved Thanksgiving.
- I will lose my mind telling family friends all of the reasons that they need to stop thinking that Trump is actually vote-worthy. I’d direct them to Sarah Silverman’s tweet but I don’t want to foist them on Twitter.
- Someone will ask me why I don’t have a boyfriend.
- No one will ask me why I don’t have a boyfriend because they assume I’m a lost cause.
Hopefully your Thanksgiving holiday is lighthearted and fun – at least compared to mine!
It has been three months and two weeks since we lost my Dad. If there’s a part of my life that hasn’t been affected by grief, well, I couldn’t identify it for you.
Physically, I just don’t feel right and that’s something I never expected. It’s rare I go a day without a headache. Continue reading
This will be my first birthday without you. You always sent me a sweet card in the mail and called to sing me the birthday song first thing in the morning. How I will miss that.
When I think about you that way, my heart aches. It’s better if I try to think about all of the wonderful birthdays you, Mom and I spent together. I am going to need every last one of those happy memories to get me through.
As the day approaches, I keep remembering your version of the story of my arrival. You used to tell anyone who would listen what it was like for you the day I was born, and it never failed to make me smile. Continue reading
It’s really hard to hate a tree.
I know because I tried. But as I stood in front of the beautiful cherry tree my father used to climb to hunt deer and otherwise be among nature, I couldn’t find it in my heart to hold a grudge.
Instead I stood there with my mother, aunt, uncle, and four close family friends, imagining that Dad was there with us. I breathed fresh country air and visualized the pre-dawn mornings Dad had spent in a tree stand on our friend Ivan’s property, waiting for a mature buck to appear.
Although Dad died from complications Pulmonary Hypertension, a hunting accident he suffered back in 2007 exacerbated his health problems for the next eight years.
When I tell you that nothing good happened this summer, BELIEVE ME. I am not prone to exaggeration.
Well, OK. Sometimes, but not often.
Seriously, when the best thing to happen to a person all summer is a clear mammogram, that is a Bad Summer. Well, I did go to the Berkshires and California a few times.
But I’m still referring to this summer as the Summer of Suck for reasons you surely understand. In honor of the approaching autumnal equinox, here’s a look at the summer that was.
Good riddance, Summer. Fall, please be kind.
Tomorrow will mark one month since my dear, sweet, wonderful Dad died. I’m doing OK, but it still sucks. I still cry. I still feel sad and awful and shocked that the world keeps turning without Dad present.
But I am also starting to manage to not cry every time I see a pic of Dad or think of him. Weirdly, I feel a teensy bit guilty for not grieving 24/7. That’s normal and OK too. Grief is weird and non-linear and unpredictable.
Having survived this summer myself, I’m feeling kind of expert-y about grief (not really) and though I’d share a few things I learned in the process. If you have anything you’d add, please share in the comments.
If one of you made me a shirt that said “MY DAD DIED AND I AM A MESS” please know that I would wear it. Perhaps daily.
Such a shirt would save me from having to say those horrible-but-true words aloud, and let people know why my brain is really not working like it normally does.
Via Polyvore and Marc by Marc Jacobs
Perhaps this shirt would work just as well.
I’m serious though. During my sweet Dad’s last days and now, I have been making crazy errors, like booking a flight for the wrong day (by two whole weeks!). And I need to read things, like, four times to get the point.
Is this normal? Will I ever bounce back?
I promise that someday my blog won’t be exclusively about grief and death and sad things. But right now these are pretty much the only thoughts in my head and I really need to share them with anyone willing to listen. Thank you for your patience.