While brushing my teeth last night, I thought of a question I wanted to ask my dad. I’d forgotten he was gone for just a second until remembering came crashing down on me.
I read somewhere that most people will give a grieving person a month to grieve openly before thinking the person with the gaping hole in their heart should move on. My month has passed. I have not been the recipient of any “move on” vibes from my friends or family, but I wonder if reading that affected my own thoughts about how quickly I should move through the process.
The adoption should be final soon, if all goes as well as it has been going. Knowing my dad will not be there on adoption day is a heartbreak I do not yet have words to describe. Knowing I will live the rest of my life without being able to talk to him about my triumphs, stresses, worries, or dreams makes my tears flow. I never got a picture of him with my girls. I thought I had more time.
My dad was who he was. Like all of us, like me, he had light and dark inside him. We stopped pretending with each other long before he died. Gratitude for that honesty and how it helped our relationship wells up within me. But I still wish I’d watched the movie he recommended with him. I’m saving it to watch on his birthday, I think. But I won’t be able to hear his laugh or tell him my opinion of it.
It’s getting hard to see through the tears.
I miss him.
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