We are coming up on the two year mark of Dad's passing. I try to leave myself freedom in my schedule when I know difficult days will be coming up. This week and next will be no different. My parents' anniversary would've been October 1st and then Dad's passing was October 8th. Somehow while managing my own grief, I will need to be aware of my mom's grief and be sensitive to when she needs me. It may be a balancing act.
Right now I have his flannel shirt on. When I was offered the shirt by my mom, I accepted it because it was his. I had no idea how often he wore this shirt until I was looking through pictures of him. I bring it out when I'm feeling down and put it on to feel closer to him. It's been awhile, but the past week I've brought it out twice. My excuse was that I was cold but really, I'm feeling low in my soul. The kids have noticed me wearing it and I think that causes them to be more careful around me...more sensitive and trying to offer more kindness and compassion to each other and to me than usual. I have wonderful kids.
Tonight Anna asked me, "Have you ever had that feeling that you didn't really appreciate what you had when you had it but now you do?" She then started going into memories she had of time spent with my dad. I know she wishes she could have those moments back. I fully believe we have a good God who is always in control. But my heart also struggles with feeling like we were robbed. All the years and memories we wanted to have. Stolen. But never ours to stake a claim on. Still...robbed.
One thing that brings me comfort is knowing that even though he is not here, half of me is him. His DNA is part of me and always with me. My heart that beats and breaks for him, is part him. My hands that wipe the tears which stream down my face...all part him. My skin, nails, and hair; part him. It may not be him; but it's something. At times I feel bad for my mother because it's more than she was allowed to keep of him. She has many more memories than I do. But I have his DNA. I am part him.
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