Slow Turning

Like the song says, you can learn to live with love or without it

If I Could Turn Back Time

with 4 comments

In exactly one month, it will be 25 years since my dad passed away.  In the span of those 25 years, I think I’ve felt every emotion and physical pain you can when you lose your Superman.  I remember hurting so bad that I couldn’t breath.  My heart had been shredded with a dull knife and it slowly bled love and hope and dreams.  I didn’t think the pain would ever end.  And I was right.  But I was also wrong.  In other words, I’ve learned something along the way.

Time is the greatest bitch and best healer.

I suppose I could have said that time is a double-edged sword, but that doesn’t sound as good, does it?  Either way, it’s killed me that as time passes, I forget a little bit more about my dad.  I still have vivid memories.  But his voice isn’t as strong.  I remember what he told me, but I can’t hear it.  I remember being with him, but I don’t remember what he felt like, what he smelled like.  The only thing that hasn’t faded is how I felt when I was with him.  Maybe that’s all that matters.

This is the first year where I’ve really believed that I’ve healed with time.  I don’t miss him any less, but the pain isn’t raw like it used to be.  I no longer go into a depression and cry myself to sleep every night in the months leading up to May 4th.  I still hurt and I still cry, but I also find time to not do those things.

Heart broken, heart found.

I shut down so fiercely after my dad died, that I didn’t think I would ever embrace anyone with the same kind of love I had before.  Then I met my nephews.  I wrote about them in Rewarded, but what I didn’t mention was how they helped me find my heart again.  They proved to me that that I could love someone unconditionally just because they were alive.  I don’t know if it’s different when you hold your own child in your arms for the first time, but I can’t imagine ever experiencing a sweeter feeling.  Without those three boys, I’m not sure that I would have ever started healing.

Grief in 6

Everyone knows about denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and finally acceptance.  But what if about being lost?  More than anything else the one thing that I have constantly been since losing my dad is lost.  How do I know where I fit in, if I don’t have anywhere to belong?  The only times I haven’t felt unsettled are in the moments when I feel closest to him, like when I take walks in the rain or am out in the water.  I take a deep breath and pause for moment to remember what it was like to be his little girl.

“We’re going to miss Mom together, but don’t be scared.”

This is a line from a book called Walking Disaster by Jamie McGuire.  It’s a book that I’ve been looking forward to reading, and I would definitely recommend it.  However, the prologue in it killed me and this is the line that pushed me over the edge and spurred me to write this.




Written by rachel

April 4, 2013 at 12:46 am

4 Responses

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  1. I’m so sorry, I it just seems like something people say but having recently lost a parent you described everything I feel


    April 4, 2013 at 4:03 am

    • You are right. It’s something that roll off people’s tongues…and yet, sometimes they are the most heartfelt words you can say. Just know that I am very sorry to hear about your loss.


      April 4, 2013 at 10:52 am

      • So true! Thank you so much, I never thought I could miss someone as much as I do


        April 5, 2013 at 1:47 am

      • I understand completely.


        April 6, 2013 at 10:41 am

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