31/07/2026
The Me before I lost my dad thought that grief was linear. That I'd stumble through all the firsts without him, the first Christmas, Fathers Day, his birthday, mine; with pain and tears
And then it would just feel better... like after a year, the pain would ease. (I think i read it in a Marian Keyes book).
Post-death-grief-Me knows something different. That grief isn't linear. It doesn't consistently get better.
It is a cycle that cycles over and over. Yes definitely some easing through time.
There are some times where it feels as raw and fresh as yesterday. When I ache for one of his big squeezy hugs, or to hear some words of advice from him (like what should I do now, Dad?)
Or to just sit on his deck with a coffee in the sun like we used to when he had understood that his life was coming to an end, and that these moments on the deck, were all we had left.
You'd think that six years would pass and it would all feel alright now..and it mostly does. But there is still a hole where he was.
There is the remembering that happens every year, I can feel it in my bones, in the air, in the bare trees of the winter season. The grief season. It's like my body remembers, and each year, at this time, it feels hard.
Today I'm going to journal. To sit with our memories. To be gentle on myself.
He was a great man, and I was so loved. I'll remember that.
