Miss You, Daddy

We spent the last week of my dad's life in Sedona. A spiritual place, but a bittersweet memory.

Yesterday, I did not leave myself time to ponder the fourth anniversary of my father’s death, I kept myself busy. I took my mom to the movies and then to lunch to keep her (and me) distracted. I was a chatterbox, talking about anything I could (mostly politics) to keep her from dwelling on that horrible night in the hospital, to keep her tears from spilling over. I got back home in time to go pick up my son from school. Then it was a walk with my husband and my dog. Oh, and UPS delivered my new vacuum cleaner (yay!), so I vacuumed the whole house. (Being without a vacuum sucks 😀 ) Then dinner. Then the Daily Show and Colbert. Then bed, where I played Bejeweled and Scrabble on my Nook until 1:15 a.m. but still couldn’t sleep. The Cokes at lunch probably didn’t help. I tossed and turned, but I didn’t let myself ponder.

No pondering the night before either. My dad died in the wee hours of January 10th, so it is January 9th that left the permanent shadow on my heart, the way the intense  heat of an atomic bomb leaves a permanent shadow on a wall (I’ve heard). That night, to me, is the real anniversary — the night I am again on the edge of tears and could drown in them if I let myself. I read my book until I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore and, thank god, slept through most of those gut-wrenching wee hours.

Today, I will be back in the current moment, without a need to suppress the past. I wonder when my dad’s death went from being a knock-out blow to a fact of life. Maybe about a year later, when I was tired of crying and being mired in grief.

Mom and Dad walking into Winter.

So, I do anything I can to avoid pondering on the anniversary of my dad’s death. But somehow, this early morning at 6 a.m., when I am still half asleep and waiting to wake my son for a new day, I am helpless. It’s winter. It’s dark outside, and damn if it doesn’t feel like the wee hours.

Miss you, Daddy.

About Jeannette Monahan

A writer sidetracked by life, with a husband and two boys who shine brighter than Arizona sunshine. Visit me at my blogs: jeannettemonahan.wordpress.com or jmmonahan.wordpress.com. You are always welcome.
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2 Responses to Miss You, Daddy

  1. emjayandthem says:

    … I’m sorry. I know how much it hurts. My lovely Dad passed away 2 days past his 81st birthday In November of 2004.

    You never get over it; it never goes away.

    I do think that there comes a time (and it’s different for everyone) when it’s not so raw and you don’t feel that all-engulfing pain that threatens to devour you.

    What helped? Talking about him. Remembering him. Sharing stories, and smiling. We still cry, all of us. It’s a testament to what he meant to us.

    … MJ

    • Thank you, MJ. The day wasn’t so hard for me (except for that little while), but my mom…she is still hiding away. If my sister and I and the kids didn’t hug her when we see her, she would have no skin-to-skin contact with another human being at all. I do worry about her. You’re right though. It does help her to talk, and to just mention him casually in conversation == “Oh, Dad would really like this movie.” Stuff like that. She was better this year, so that’s good.

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