Hey, Dad. I just had one of those moments so many people have told me about when you randomly cry due to loss. It’s been 11 days since you left us. I’ve held it together for much of that time, to the point of being surprised I haven’t grieved more.
It’s partially due to thinking about you all day, though, to be honest, I’ve been doing that every day since you passed. Exercise has been a break. Work has been a break. Hanging out with the family has been a break. But you’re always in my thoughts.
Today, I picked up your ashes from the crematory. I thought I’d have a moment as I drove there. It didn’t happen.
In the afternoon, I picked up your monument. I thought I’d have a moment as I drove there. It didn’t happen. But I was moved by how great the marker looked, especially because of the shape it was in when I dropped it off.
I’m sure you remember because it was your idea, but for brevity: As we discussed purchasing a headstone, you asked about using the original monument you bought for your father in 1984. You wanted to have the blank side engraved, with your dad facing you in the afterlife. Fortunately, we found a business to do that, and they did it quite well.
Neither of those things got to me. I was a little sad, but it wasn’t one of those moments.
Then, tonight, as I was eating dinner with Shana, I suddenly remembered that I had a dream with you in it last night or the night before. I couldn’t remember details beyond that you were alive and well.
“Do you think he was just in your dream or visiting you?” She asked.
“I think he was visiting me.” I replied, as tears began to run down my cheeks.
Always a kind, loving soul, Shana wiped the tears away and said, “He probably just wants you to know that he’s OK.”
I’m crying now as I write about it. One of those moments. There will be many more.
I miss and love you, Dad.
E.B.
Yes EB, and there will be more. Some sneak in like a warm gentle breeze and some will hit with fierce bending force. That you are able to form your emotions and thoughts in prose is s gift. My thoughts wander and I am not able to get out of my own head. I hold on to these emotions and thoughts and handling them endlessly. As for dreams, trust that your heart will heal. Shana is right, does it matter from where they come? Now I am rambling……. I love the headstone, one word; enduring.
I still remember the very moment I was able to think about Jennifer and not cry. In time EB, in time.
You remain in my thoughts.
I can’t imagine losing a child. I remember Jennifer visiting us in Lebanon when she was newly married. The years go by so fast.