As March 14th creeps closer and closer, I thought I would reflect on the past year and what it's been like going through this life without my father.It feels like this past year went by in the blink of an eye - faster than it normally feels. And without question, my father's absence was felt at every turn. I can't tell you how many times I wanted to pick up the phone and and call him. It was second nature sometimes. In fact, although his cell phone has been shut off, I still have "Dad Cell" listed in my favorites and I just can't bring myself to delete his number. I've kept about a dozen voicemails from him on my phone, which he left me over the year before he passed. I still find tears welling in my eyes when I listen to them, although I think I've come to appreciate them a little differently now and sometimes find myself smiling.
I often think about how he would react to certain news or circumstances, what he would say, or how he might go about something. When I was chosen to participate in an elite leadership development program at work, all I wanted to do was call my dad and tell him the news. I could hear his response, I knew exactly what he would say. And he'd have this indelible way of letting you know how proud he was of you. He'd tell all his friends what an accomplishment it was and before I could tell anyone myself, our entire extended network of family and friends would already know. Every child should have the opportunity to feel that loved and to know someone is that proud of you. My dad did that for me, every day of my life.
Father's Day was difficult this year. I felt so out of place as I read all the various well wishes my friends posted for their own fathers. I avoided the Father section in Hallmark like the plague. In fact, I had to purchase a birthday card around Father's Day and I had to leave the store, because it was too much for me to watch others search for cards.
Church is also difficult for me, even now. For some reason, when I do make it to church, I can't seem to get through the service without tears. I know it's connected to my father, I just don't know why. I think the constant messages of hope, love, and Heaven, just make me miss him that much more.
While the nights where I cried myself to sleep are fewer and far between these days, the pain is still so real. I often find myself listening to a certain song on the radio or watching a particular scene in a movie and feeling the tears rush down my face. I still wince when I hear talk of fathers and weddings - I'm not sure that particular pain will ever go away.
It's funny, through this process, I have learned so much about myself, about grief, about other people. There are mountains of books available for people who have lost someone to dissect their grief, to learn how to process grief, and to eventually "move on." In many ways I'm almost compelled to write a book for other people to learn how to care for someone who is grieving, because I have to tell you, that is one skill a majority of people lack.
I think grief and loss is generally awkward for those who have never really experienced it. Society as a whole seems to think you should be "back to normal" in a matter of weeks, but I question whether "going back to normal," is really ever possible - especially for someone like me who was so completely connected with the person who is lost. While I have met some incredibly compassionate and loving people through this process, at the same time, I've been completely baffled by others. I've heard things like, "I know exactly how you feel, but instead of listening to you, let me just tell you how I feel instead," (a piece of advice, you never really know how someone feels, ever.) to, "You just have to get over it," to nothing at all. The most deafening noise you can ever hear when you're grieving, is that of silence from people you thought cared . . . but that is a post for another time.
Although there are certainly tough days, I do think I'm handling things better than I expected I would. Relocating to be closer to family and friends has been a tremendous blessing - just not being alone is so comforting.
I've also done my best to keep my father's memory alive at every turn. I try to recognize every major event he might have missed, like his birthday or Father's Day. And the scholarship has been a real dedication - we'll host our first fundraiser event on April 5 - an Easter Fest for children in my parents' town, an event I know my Dad would have loved.
As March 14th approaches, I keep asking myself how I want to mark the day. I can't let it go without addressing it somehow - it's a day that will forever mean so much to me and to do nothing would seem so callous. While I plan to visit my father's grave and buy a lottery ticket (since he was adamant, that you can't win if you don't play!), I've also decided, perhaps the best way to acknowledge the day is to go about some random acts of kindness, in honor of my father, who was always so passionate about helping others.
If you're reading this and have the time, perhaps you might want to take part in some random acts of kindness on March 14th - whether it's buying coffee for the person behind you in line, baking cookies for a neighbor, or sending a card to a friend to let them know you care. Whatever it is, I encourage you, in the spirit of love and hope, to honor my father by doing something special for someone else, regardless of how big or small it may be . . . for some reason, I think that would mean so much to my Dad. To know because of him, others are doing good. His personal motto after all was, "Remember, each one of us can make a difference every day."As the first year without my dad comes to a close, I won't lie. I miss him more now, than I ever have. And I sincerely do not believe it ever gets easier, dealing with the loss. But I do find myself smiling more and laughing more when I think about
memories we made together.
It's a tough world for a Daddy's girl without her Dad . . . but I'm confident he's still with me - I see the signs. And I know I will see him again. Until then, all I can do is continue to walk in his footsteps and make him as proud as possible, just from a different vantage point.
Make a difference people.
