I suppose I should feel a certain way today.
Sometimes I will it, like if I don't feel reflective or grief stricken or anything on the twelfth anniversary of Dads passing I am a failure.
After twelve years I could almost miss this day completely.
I don't look to it, I don't remember it.
It has become just another day.
February has become just another month.
I suppose that my grief has changed a little over the last twelve years- that it has morphed from the constant thought and missing.
From everything constantly reminding me he's gone.
The first day of school without him, the first Easter without him, the first Christmas without him.
From the constant dull ache in the back of my chest.
The hole so deep it never seemed to have a bottom.
Into this. Into this ... Third dimension.
The third dimension of grief.
How did I get here?
How did I go from anger and sorrow to this.. this calm.
I almost feel like he's never left - like I imagine him in all the places he should've been over the last twelve years.
My memories filled not with loss, but with his presence.
Quietly reclining in the corner, his belly, his beard, his scruffy white hair - all there, just as they should've been.
The silent watcher.
I see him sitting on the yellow mustard leather chair, his feet raised on the velour blue pouffe he bought for Mum one Christmas, it's shape deflated with use.
His elbows resting on the dark wood arms where the lacquer is worn thin from years of elbow resting.
His chest softly rising and falling as his breathing slows and he nods off into slumber.
The sound of his breathing deepening as he falls further into sleep.
And it's as if nothing has ever changed.
Like he's always been there, and I just missed him because I was too loud or too distracted, but he was there. He was always there.
Quietly listening.
His presence alone, encouragement enough.
I just wish I'd seen. I just wish I'd known.
To stop.
To listen.
To feel.
So I might not have missed seeing him.
So I might've snatched a moment.
To say:
I love you.
such a beautiful collection of memories and reflections Jesse...i too remember the morning well..the air around you seemed so electric but yet as everyone did what had to be done there was a feeling of moving in a bubble... of being unreal .. a numbness..i remember hugging and kissing you and being there for you all...thank you for that ..a lovely treasured memory..VTing at work XXXXX
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