Today at exactly 8:15 am it will be exactly 9 months since my father passed.
The "new" normal is beginning to feel more like the everyday, old normal. The newness is slowly wearing off. At times this makes it easy to forget, easy to put behind us, our loss. With each passing day, the nakedness and vulnerability I felt that day in October, is slowly disappearing. Truth is as time goes by, life takes over. Work, friends, plans and the mundane details that fill each hour of each day inhabit your time, your brain and slowly push the lost loved one to the corner. Memories drift in and out and they become less strong, less clear. Time is a thief. It's sneaky and always catches you off guard. It lures you in with the illusion of it's fidelity, but then it cheats on you. It turns on you when you least expect it and you before you know it you find yourself out of time. It's one of the most precious things we have, time, and we so take it for granted.
Not a day goes by that I don't think of my father or feel his presence. So many times I have conversations with him in my head... how to do something or how to handle a situation or why things are they way they are. Lately, I have been really wishing that I could just talk to him. I want so badly to ask him some questions, to understand. And to hear his voice.
I miss him a lot.
I see him frequently. It happens the most when there are fluffy clouds in the sky positioned perfectly for him to be perched up there watching the world go on without him. Often times, when there are nice white fluffy clouds in the sky, I will look at them, and just see/feel him. Or when there is a beautiful sunset I feel as though he did that for me, for us, to let us know that he's around.
Is that weird? If it is I don't care.
This post is not living up to it's full potential. I had such ideas of grandeur for this post. Oh well.... I have more coming. More things to get off my chest.
Good night all!