One year.

It has almost been one whole year since we last saw you. 

Someone said to me the other day, “it’l get easier now, you’ve done all of your firsts.” I used to think the same, but for all that are yet to feel this, that is not quite correct.

Yes I have, but the first time you experience all of those meaningful dates you are so numb that you can barely believe that things have actually changed. You are in such shock and your whole body is completely denying the whole thing. You find an inner strength from somewhere that kind of carries you through each day with minimal injury. 

But nearly a year has passed and you still aren’t here. I feel more grounded now compared to last year. More able to ease in the reality and the pain. That’s all I’m doing, I’m easing into it, still not fully accepting, still not fully submerged. Just dipping a toe in. Still lots of me feeling numb. 

The reality that when I think about my future I’m having to mentally erase my dad from the mental image each time. The reality that I still hate counting how many people there are at family gatherings when setting the table. The reality that I equally want to avoid and speak about him, the constant battle in my mind. The reality that I can’t ask for his advice and tell him what I’m doing with my life now. Not now and not ever. 

That’s the point. You can’t fully come to terms with this, because it’s not now and it’s not ever.

Forever is a long time.

I am slowly coming to this realisation, my body has protected me this far. But I know for a fact that this year is going to be far from easier for any of us. My dad is even further from us all. I can never get used to that. 

Part of me actually doesn’t want it to get easier also, because with the pain of grief is the memory of my Dad. It’s all knotted and twisted into one. I don’t want to loose grip on any of it, as it’s loosing hold of him also. 
So if you know someone that has lost a loved one and it has been over a year, please still be there. Still comfort them. Still assume that they need support more than ever. Because the reality is, they probably feel the exact same way I do.

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4 thoughts on “One year.

  1. Didn’t actually realise other people felt like me, like you. I lost my mum in October. The pain is indescribable but most people think I’m ok and soldiering on. Thank you for letting me see inside your heart and know I’m ok to feel like this still. X x

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I lost my mom in June, suddenly, in front of my eyes. I feel EXACTLY as you described, especially the part about almost not wanting the pain to stop. But also wanting the pain to stop. I plod on through every day and people think I’m ‘getting over it’. I can’t believe how dismissive that is. My life will never be the same, I will never be complete, without her. I didn’t realise how close we were until I lost her. Does a broken heart ever fully mend? I don’t know yet. Thank you for voicing what I cannot. I wish I could give you a hug X

    Liked by 1 person

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