An open letter to my father

My friend sees you driving around in every Subaru ,she sees.

Thank you for visiting,  I don’t understand the way you visit different people.

I felt your presence left, when I touched your frozen body and full consciousness hit me that you are really gone. It makes me sad because I felt your presence so strong until that point.  I almost wish I hadn’t seen your lifeless body if I knew , you would go away.

About 3pm every day I have a melt down. By that time of day, I have had so many triggers go off, physical pain in my heart, and the thought of never seeing you again ,bring the tears that start the crying that makes your whole body shake.

I understand that you are somewhere better, that is the hope we cling too. You are not miserable. 

It is all too raw still.  It is surreal to have life continue on. I see the benefits to going on. It is good to forget for a moment, lost in the business of certifiably making you dead.

I realized yesterday I think I can handle more than I can. A problem you had, dad. Followed by a meltdown because of that quality.  Much like you.

Mom is a million times stronger than me. Getting her to slow down is near impossible,  I know, you know that. I am making her rest despite her insistence, she is fine. I promised to take care of her and I will.  She calls me your name every day in a snappy tone of correction.  Old habits die hard.

We are trying to put the ‘fun’ in dysfunction, somehow in this madness, their is healing.  This brought triggers up for so many people.  We all are battling the loss differently and have strong emotional reactions. It is good mom is here, it is good ray is home.  We all rotate sleeping together and it brings us closer to process one on one with each other about our feelings of you leaving.

I miss you so much! Your generosity is a constant reminder of who you were. I miss walking into your house, to hear your rocking chair snap out of the recliner position. You would say, “heeeeey, hotshot,  what are you doing?”Giving me a bearhug squeeze. Sitting across from him on the couch, looking at him talking from his brown leather rocking chair. I miss our Monday calls. I miss your smell, I can’t smell you. I love you so much!

My friend was telling me how much I remind her of you. I have cards from people who say the same thing. I will fight ,dad, for this family to stay together.  I am sure this won’t be my last letter as every day brings some new memory of you. You are missed. We all feel the loss, we all feel guilty for taking advantage of the time we had here with you.

I get mad at you because it is no small chore to deal with what is left behind. I already had plenty on my plate with my own children. You told me , “God won’t give you more than you can handle.” I disagree dad, this is too much! Somehow,  I manage to continue to believe I am being refined by fire. I keep going because I think there is a purpose and a divine plan.

Rest in peace


2 thoughts on “An open letter to my father

  1. Shauna,i can only imagine how hard it is.but you are doing great and going thru the stages of grief,and you are strong.keep his memories,the good and bad,and one day you will find the pain is gone and your heart will be filled with love.you have to forgive him.

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