Find the latest version of this post here:
A reader writes: When I found out that no more could be done for my beautiful dad, I realized how lucky I was that I had no bridges to build with my father. When I needed him he was always there: always letting me know he loved me, guiding but not controlling me, watching but never judging me, holding but never smothering me—not necessarily agreeing with me but always listening, always hearing me. The bridge was always there. I realized that the knowledge of his illness gave us the most precious gift and I embraced it with all my heart: TIME!! Time to say our goodbyes, time to thank him for being my dad, time to let him know he will live on in every breath I take, time to let him know it was ok—that he wasn`t deserting us or abandoning us. Time to look straight into his beautiful blue eyes and let him know he got it right. When he died, I felt as if at 50 years of age I’d suddenly turned into a ten- year old little girl who needed her daddy.
My mother was devastated by my father`s death. They had been together since childhood and they were soul mates. Even though she missed him dreadfully and the shine had gone from her eyes, she remained strong for us because that was her way: We children always came first with her. Barely six months after my dad had died, I went to my mom`s home and found her dead in bed. My world came crashing down around me. I was still grieving my father and now my mother was gone. So suddenly, without warning, I am without both my parents. I had no reason to believe that the six months after my dad had died was going to be the last ones I would have with my mom, too. Emotionally I just hit the floor, and most things from that time are a blur.
Whenever I`ve heard of people suffering a bereavement I`ve always been sorry and passed my condolences and truly meant it—but it’s only now that I truly understand the depth that grief can go. How it bites into your soul and does not let go.
I miss them both so very much. I need them every moment of every day. The hurt gets deeper and the pain of losing them both is stronger than ever. The void their deaths left in my world will never be filled. I’m just so frightened that I will forget, that people will forget! I’m afraid to stop grieving and I dare not let go of my grief—because if I stop it’s like saying it’s ok—and it will never be ok!!! NOT EVER!!!