The world has continued to rotate on its axis in the two years since my father’s passing. And those who loved him – though forever changed from having known him – continue to laugh and cry and go about our days as best we can.
I should apologise to my blog’s subscribers who were – undoubtedly (!!! đŸ˜‰ ) – overcome with excitement to receive advice of a new post… because this is really just a faux post: the post you publish when you have nothing to say. #orsomething
Which is actually true. Surprising but true. Because, when it comes to dad and how much I miss him, I’ve said it all before.
I wrote this post (link below) just hours after his passing. Friends and family know I HATE talking on the phone. Indeed I texted my closest friends to tell them the news and then sat down at my computer to share his passing with the world* (well, at least those who follow my blog!).
Then last year, I was in the throes of a major life change on this day as I departed my former hometown of Brisbane to commence my seachange. The decision I’d made (to quit work-as-I-knew-it and leave my old life behind) was scary, but it was deliberate and (ultimately) felt like it was my only option if I was to ever live a life that mattered.
I visited the cemetery that day, on arriving at my childhood hometown; but I’ve not returned since and it’s unlikely that I’ll go back soon. I don’t have any huge aversions to cemeteries or crematoriums, rather as I’ve said before, in my mind he’s not there. He’s here with me every day. I can think about him or talk to him whenever I want. I don’t need a special time or place to do that.
In memory of Barry Donald Cook.
* In all honesty I just needed to write. It’s often the only way I can share or explain my feelings.
October 24, 2013
I think that it’s a tribute to your Dad and the relationship you had with him that you still miss him. Special people have this way of leaving a big hole behind when they go.
October 24, 2013
I suspect I always will. It’s just the getting used to him not being physically around that’s hard. I sometimes still think of things that I need to tell him…
October 24, 2013
I think certain people in your life you will just always miss, event though it gets easier they never leave you. I think you’re right that your Dad is all around you and probably hears you. That is what I like to believe. X
October 24, 2013
Absolutely Jess, I’m not a religious person but I do like to believe in…. something. I realise that my talking to him nowadays is about me rather than him, but every so often I wonder what he would think if he was able to watch / hear us. God – makes me cringe as I suspect I’d disappoint him in many ways.
October 24, 2013
It’s so important to pause and reflect for our lost loved ones, and sharing your story helps other people like myself. I lost a loved one at the begining of the year, and it’s good to know that I’m not the only one that just needs to write about it sometimes. I struggle to put what I am feeling into spoken words at times, but it seems to flow from my fingers. I also believe that our loved ones are with us all the time, we carry them in our hearts. Thank you for sharing.
October 24, 2013
Hi Nicole and thanks for your comment. You’re right, I find that writing about stuff most definitely helps me… It’s nice also to have a record of what we’ve written. When I was thinking about this anniversary I looked at my old posts and thought: they said it all.
xxxx
October 27, 2013
I miss my dad, very much. I don’t like going to his grave and have only been there once since his passing 20 + years ago. If I every buy a house I plan to plant a nice rosebush or something as a memory or place to visit instead.
October 27, 2013
That’s a lovely thought! My own dad never went to the cemetery to his own mother’s grave, but it was because it upset him more than anything. (I have some of dad’s ashes at home… so if I believed he was only where his REMAINS were, he’d still be with me!). PS. I found it hard to write that ‘R’ word then. Couldn’t think of an alternative though!