Dad, a year later

Hello? Ms. Griffin…I am sorry to report that just after 6 your father passed.

One year ago. And its been a hollow year. Each holiday, marked with an extra helping of pain & emptiness. Sept. 11th was the hardest because I for the first time since 2001 actually turned on the tv and didn’t walk around going “La La La” with my hands over my ears.
I feel…at ease and with a finality. Peaceful now and hopeful for the future. It is done. Last year, a vault of fresh pain came to punch me square in the gut.
At work, when I’ve heard of someone’s loss, I felt it that much more keenly, especially since experiencing the loss myself. It hurts, and every holiday feels like a curse.

Christmas was unbearable. I could barely get dinner made, and my mom wouldn’t leave the couch. She was catatonic, and I went into June Cleaver overdrive, trying to make eeeeverything perrrrfect and cheeerful lest my daughter take notice.

I watched Rocket Gibraltar, a sleepy little movie made in 1988. The kids of a family reunion give their Grandpa a Viking Funeral. The last 20 minutes of the film are the best, but you really need to see the whole story to understand what is going on. I cried at the end, naturally, also recalling how we honored my Dad by having a green burial.

My Dad was one year younger than Burt Lancaster’s Levi, 76. He left a great heritage for us to follow. We still have the house and are not flat broke (yet). Lol…

I love you Dad. And your love will be passed on from this generation to the next.


About downszdiva

Freelance writer, blogger, foodie. Ph ilosopher, Jersey girl (not to be confused with the 'shore'). Pet sitter, lover of strong coffee.
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