It’s been a long while since I blogged … time has gone too quickly. It’s eleven weeks today that Dad passed away, and to be truthful i haven’t been feeling very communicative in that time. The last few months have been bittersweet, laying Dad to rest (the funeral was lovely, with a big crowd of people – so pleasing to know how popular he was), trying to stay strong and supportive for Mum and for my boys, and just generally trying to make sense of it all.
In the days after Dad’s death, I set up a Dropbox folder especially for photos of him, which the family have all contributed to. There must be almost 500 pictures on there now. I’ve got a huge pile more that I need to scan in, but I’ve been putting it off for weeks, and I must knuckle down and get it done.
People have been surprised that I went back to work on the Monday after Dad died – although I went back for one day and then took two more days off. Apparently, I should’ve taken more time – but why? Dad is gone and nothing can bring him back … and taking several weeks off isn’t going to make things any easier. I think keeping busy helped immensely, though maybe I should’ve taken the time to grieve then. The thing is, eleven weeks on, the enormity of it all has just smacked me right in the face – my lovely Dad is gone. I’m never going to see him or speak to him again … no more covering his face in slobby kisses and hearing him tell me to ‘feck off’. No more seeing the odd way he’d hold a fag. No more hearing him call Mum ‘woman’. None of it. But you know what, still I can’t grieve. I can’t let go of that incredibly tight hold I have on my emotions, because if I let go I might not be able to get control again … and that is so scary. So at odd moments when a thought of Dad comes to mind, I have to push it back and swallow it all down. But it’s getting harder and harder to do and I’m starting to feel overwhelmed.
I didn’t even cry at the funeral. I resolved that I wouldn’t, and I didn’t. Because you know what, I can’t let myself be shown at a disadvantage to anyone. All around me people were weeping, and at the graveside one of my brothers almost collapsed … but I kept it all in. That’s not to say that I didn’t feel it, I just couldn’t let any of it out. And that’s how it remains. This is going to bite me on the arse at some stage, I’m sure. And when I feel like this, when there is stuff that hurts that I can’t deal with, I create voraciously. Something to occupy my mind and my hands … so there’s been an awful lot of knitting going on recently, more of which I will save for my next post.
I’m never going to stop missing my Dad, but I’ve got so many memories to cherish … I will get through this, won’t I?
Love you, Dad xxx