I wasn’t able to post at all on the 11th, the anniversary my father passed away (2016). That being said, yesterday was the fifth anniversary of burying my father. Soul crushing in many ways, his passing left a hole in me. One that even now I haven’t fully acknowledged or even know the limits of. I think the only thing that would rip me apart worse (many times worse) would be if my husband passed before me.
My mother’s passing five months later was hard as well, but I have to admit whether it was my relationship with my father, or just I was numb by the time her passing happened due to the shit show of my family I couldn’t tell you. Either way at this point it feels like a lesser wound. Maybe there is a lot of issues I need to work with about her as well.
His funeral itself would have been hard enough, but the circumstances around his death and the entire situation are something I haven’t ever really talked about. I don’t think I even told the hubby all the details (he was out for the first portion due to surgery). I have started dreaming about it now. That combined with my therapy I am sure it is all bubbling up and I will need to start talking and writing about it.
So buckle in buttercups. I am sure scattered over the next many posts I will talk about this as well.
That being said, even though I feel I need to start to unpack everything and I prefer to celebrate his birthday, there is no way I could talk about it in 10 posts fully, let alone one. So today I wanted to just tackle remembering my father and the day we buried him without digging into even what happened on that day.
We love you dad, I hope you got the peace you never found here.