GOD Help me
I am in very bad space today. I miss my father in a desperate way. I am feeling his absence more and more everyday. What hit me today I dont know. I guess the holidays arent helping but my down time is consumed by thoughts of What is he thinking ? where is he? Is he afraid or lonely? My faith has taught me since childhood that heaven is a paradise that words cant explain. I believe, but how can he be without us and still be happy? We were his whole life, my children, my mother my brothers their families. He didnt go a day without a call or something concerning all of us. The last few days of his life he fought hard to stay. I knew he wasnt ready. The last day he was peaceful. But I held his hand and didnt want to let him go. How do you say goodbye to someone that was an example of courage and grace. A daily reminder of what I wanted to be.
My Dad was raised by his single mother who had him at 40 y.o. He didnt have a dad (living) and was on his own for his upbringing. He told us many stories about things he did as a kid we wopuldnt think of doing. Walking the streets, not a hudlum, he just had no where to go. Met my mother in 10th grade and they never left oneanother. He would walk from South city to the North end to see her. She is Irish catholic , my Dad a welsh protestant. Typically a hot tempered mix, but they made it work. 4 kids by 25 yo, and making it. How did he learn to be a man without any example? A real man, didnt cheat, never lied on his taxes, earned everypenny he had. Adored my mother everyday of his life and she him. Turned in life insurance policy's to pay for college for my brothers and I. And never ever complained. He was so proud of us.
Two nights before he died I sat in his hospital room by myself with him and read him the sunday paper. I held his hand, and felt the warmth of his skin. He had the fattest hands and fingers like a bears paw I always thought. We were never overtly affectionate. He would kiss my forehead, and I his. I would hold his hand for a moment and pat it and without words tell him I loved him. He died on a Wenesday morning. Sunday night I talked to him about the paper and the kids, and golf, and the weather. He didnt say anything or move or bat an eye. I would yell in his ear, "Dad I love you" he'd nod.
Oh God please help me I need to feel better. I dont want to feel so surprised by my pain anymore. I truly surprise myself by my grief. I can cry anytime anywhere. I can feel the breath leave my chest and think hes gone, hes gone. What have I done.
My Dad was raised by his single mother who had him at 40 y.o. He didnt have a dad (living) and was on his own for his upbringing. He told us many stories about things he did as a kid we wopuldnt think of doing. Walking the streets, not a hudlum, he just had no where to go. Met my mother in 10th grade and they never left oneanother. He would walk from South city to the North end to see her. She is Irish catholic , my Dad a welsh protestant. Typically a hot tempered mix, but they made it work. 4 kids by 25 yo, and making it. How did he learn to be a man without any example? A real man, didnt cheat, never lied on his taxes, earned everypenny he had. Adored my mother everyday of his life and she him. Turned in life insurance policy's to pay for college for my brothers and I. And never ever complained. He was so proud of us.
Two nights before he died I sat in his hospital room by myself with him and read him the sunday paper. I held his hand, and felt the warmth of his skin. He had the fattest hands and fingers like a bears paw I always thought. We were never overtly affectionate. He would kiss my forehead, and I his. I would hold his hand for a moment and pat it and without words tell him I loved him. He died on a Wenesday morning. Sunday night I talked to him about the paper and the kids, and golf, and the weather. He didnt say anything or move or bat an eye. I would yell in his ear, "Dad I love you" he'd nod.
Oh God please help me I need to feel better. I dont want to feel so surprised by my pain anymore. I truly surprise myself by my grief. I can cry anytime anywhere. I can feel the breath leave my chest and think hes gone, hes gone. What have I done.
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