There were only a handful of moments from 2011-2015 while my dad was sick, where he said some real shit he’d never said before. Things I’ll never forget because having him emotionally connected like that wasn’t something he was too great at. He’d just never been shown as a child. He did the best he could with what he had. So, when it happened, it left a big imprint on my mind.
The hardest part of losing someone like your father at the time I did, is that there’s no new memories to make with them. No father to walk me down the aisle when I get married one day, no father to have a dance with his daughter on that same day, no father to spoil his one day grandchildren with all the ice cream they can eat. No father to see all the wonderful things I’m making happen in my life, and help me with the hard shit only he seemed to know how to do.
Grief is just one of those things that never goes away. It morphs over time, it finds you differently than it did before. I’ve accepted, but it doesn’t mean I’m not still heartbroken.
But, despite the absence, I am grateful for how hard I loved, and how hard I still continue to ❤️