Changes

For those who don’t know, this photo is of my dad. We were coming back from my Aunt (his sister) and my Uncle’s 50th wedding anniversary.

My father was never one who liked having his picture taken. And he used to complain about it although he always had a smile on his face.

We were in the car coming back when I fired off a quick shot on my camera. I was pleasantly surprised to find the photo turned out. I’m quite fond of this picture because it captures a side of my dad that not everyone got to see. Quiet, introspective, and thoughtful. The fact that he has a cigarette in his hand is of course, mandatory.

My only request for photos to be included in the video montage was this photo. My family agreed and so this was the final shot. Looking into the light that called him home 6 months ago.

The quote is from one of my favourite poems, and one he read all the time to my sisters and I when we were children. I know this poem off by heart, as well as Gunga Din.

Dad, I love you.

Week 2 and 3

Dear Dad,

Week 2 has come and gone and we’re approaching the middle of week 3. Mom is doing alright considering everything. She’s a strong woman and is trying to do as you wanted by striving for some sort of normalcy. She started running the Sunday afternoon tea program, Wednesday night Bingo and she went to darts on Monday. You always said you wanted her to continue on and that’s what she’s doing. But she thinks of you all the time.

Becca’s been having nightmares and won’t tell Kelly and Derek what they’re about. She just keeps saying she has to say goobye to you. Sarah says goodnight to you everynight and tells Kimmy that she loves you. I don’t know about Nicky or Malisa really.

As far as myself, well, what do I say. There are two stories when I’m asked how I’m doing and the answer all depends on my mood and my ability to deal with the sympathetic looks and comments I will no doubtedly receive. Sometimes I’m okay, and other times I’m a mess who just puts up a good front.

I became aware of the fact that I talk about you in the present tense. I can’t mention you in the past tense yet, and I don’t know if I ever will. Just typing that put a lump in my throat and crying isn’t an option since I’m at work. You raised me to be strong and independent (if not stubborn) and I won’t fail you by crying at work. See? I’m already smiling thinking about how you would tell me not to be foolish and cry.

I gave my landlord my notice and mom has been with me checking out storage units. The cats have already moved in and taken over. Not surprising at all, eh? My goal in the next week is try to re-establish my own life. I need to go to the gym and should head back to WW. I want to keep losing the weight and think of you knowing you’d be telling me how great I’m doing. And I’m going to get off my butt and finish my program.

I want to make you proud of me. As much as I miss seeing you sitting on the couch and talking to you, I know that you’re with me, with mom, and with everyone else. We have our own very special guardian angel watching out for us. You went from watching out for us here on earth to watching out for us from heaven.

I guess that’s it for now dad. I’ll write more soon.

Love you forever,
Me

Week 1

Dear Dad,

It’s been one hell of a week. I wish I could say we made it through without a lot of tears, but I’d be lying. We’re not as tough as you, but we’re trying. I can only hope that you’re proud of how strong we were and know how much we miss you.

We tried to make the arrangements as you would have wanted. No depressing church music for you. No sir. It was Kenny Rogers, CCR, Neil Diamond and Blood, Sweat and Tears that saw you off. We laughed at the reception and shared stories about you. Bobby and Joey had their shot of rye and a beer. We didn’t even have to kick them out after that but only because they didn’t get drunk.

We laughed at some of the old pictures of you (mostly because of your ears), but most of the time we were quiet. It’s hard to laugh when one of the most important people in your life is gone. We have our memories (and there are a lot), and our love and that will have to do.

I have to tell you dad, that I feel horrible for another reason as well. Aunt Sally is sick, and I can’t help but question it. Is it as serious as she says? Part of me doubts it because of her past, but another part believes it. Regardless of whatever part wins out in the argument I still can’t feel anything for her. My heart and brain can only process so much, and this last week has left me completely overloaded. I’m either numb or I hurt, either way, I just can’t deal.

I think I’m done for now. I’ll write again soon.

Love you forever,
ME