Grief is the price we pay for love

Yesterday was eighteen years since my dad died. How is that even possible?

For years I suffered terrible from an anniversary grief that would punch me in the solar plexus and squeeze me until I couldn’t breathe and leave me gasping and crying. Then I went through years of anniversary grief where I would just shut down and hibernate until the day had passed. But now, sometimes the day approaches and I don’t even know it is coming until I look at my diary or check the calendar to write down an appointment. Is this good? Is this bad? Am I healing or am I forgetting?

When you lose someone that you love

Are they really lost?

You know where they are:

In an urn

In the earth

In your heart

Can you go on?

Or do you shut down?

Sometimes one and other times the other

Sometimes I miss him so much and the grief is so palpable that

I can’t breathe

I can’t think

I can’t move

I can only cry

But sometimes, whole days pass by

Without a tear or a maudlin thought

When suddenly I realise

I feel

Strange

Confused

Lost

Am I losing him?

Have I forgotten?

And then I look at myself in the mirror

And see his face

Our impossibly low foreheads and strange eyes

One near-sighted

One far-sighted

Both dimmed through too much reading

I think of my brain

That remembers and recalls

Details all

Every fact able to be quoted when needed

I look at my heart

And know I am brave

Brave like he was brave

I stand up

And am counted

I stand up

For what matters

For WHO matters

I got that from him

And so

I know

I am not alone

He is not gone

Or forgotten

He

Is with me

Always

I love you GLT