I am, by nature a positive human being. If I was a dog, I'd probably be a standard poodle. I'm highly energetic, though my hair is only wavy, not tightly curled, but I'm a glass half full kind of person.
Most days.
Today, well, not so much.
I realized just now that I'm heavy-hearted and struggling for a deep breath today.
Because tomorrow would have been my Dad's birthday. He would be 72.
But he's not here, and even after almost 13 years without him, I miss him. Very, very much.
He was, an amazing person. Gifted and artistic and he had the most amazing ginormous heart in the entire universe.
He loved us all with a passion that astounded, with a nurturing that kept us all safe and emotionally bolstered. And he let us know at every single opportunity how much he loved us. Every opportunity.
When he died an enormous chunk of my heart died with him. For the first time in my life I realized what it was to live without the person who demonstrated absolutely.unconditional.love at every turn.
No matter how hare-brained my actions were, he helped me get up and move on. Every single time.
I was his only child. He was my champion in all things. He loved my husband, adored and doted upon my children, and left a legacy of kindness and beauty.
I really didn't think I was going to go here, but here I am. A middle-aged woman wanting to curl up into a ball and hug her blankie for awhile.
Time, time means nothing when it comes to love and loss. I finally understand that, and basically, it sucks. But it is.
We miss you Dad. But I know in my heart that you are free and creating and flowing with the universe sans the darkness that plagued you in your life.
You are free to be exactly who you are and express yourself completely and with the passion and abandon that we all remember.
Embrace your lightness. We're all doing just fine, but really, truly, wish you could be here.
Most days.
Today, well, not so much.
I realized just now that I'm heavy-hearted and struggling for a deep breath today.
Because tomorrow would have been my Dad's birthday. He would be 72.
But he's not here, and even after almost 13 years without him, I miss him. Very, very much.
He was, an amazing person. Gifted and artistic and he had the most amazing ginormous heart in the entire universe.
He loved us all with a passion that astounded, with a nurturing that kept us all safe and emotionally bolstered. And he let us know at every single opportunity how much he loved us. Every opportunity.
When he died an enormous chunk of my heart died with him. For the first time in my life I realized what it was to live without the person who demonstrated absolutely.unconditional.love at every turn.
No matter how hare-brained my actions were, he helped me get up and move on. Every single time.
I was his only child. He was my champion in all things. He loved my husband, adored and doted upon my children, and left a legacy of kindness and beauty.
I really didn't think I was going to go here, but here I am. A middle-aged woman wanting to curl up into a ball and hug her blankie for awhile.
Time, time means nothing when it comes to love and loss. I finally understand that, and basically, it sucks. But it is.
We miss you Dad. But I know in my heart that you are free and creating and flowing with the universe sans the darkness that plagued you in your life.
You are free to be exactly who you are and express yourself completely and with the passion and abandon that we all remember.
Embrace your lightness. We're all doing just fine, but really, truly, wish you could be here.
Oh, Stevie, I'm so sorry. He was so young - way too young for you to have to let go. What a nice tribute. Sending you good thoughts, lady.
ReplyDeleteLG- Thank you. He was so young, and letting go...has not been easy. Clearly. Sharing with others who have experienced this kind of loss helps a bit, though. It really does.
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