A year ago I said goodbye to my father. He would've been sixty-one his birthday this year.
It's strange for me to say it that the further away an event gets the more fuzzy my memories become, this I feel is no different in that regard. There's times where small details become blurry to me until I'm reminded of them (it's partly why I take so many pictures of the people and the places I've witnessed). The things I wrote at the time of his passing I no longer cry over when I read them. It's almost as if I'm remembering the moment through a foggy pane of glass when it comes to my emotions, I remember the heartache but I can't make myself feel like that now when reminiscing on the event. I don't know if it's because I'm not at all an emotionally inclined individual (I've never been super in touch with my emotions, it still takes me a while to digest them) or perhaps this is something everyone goes through as grief and time passes.
I remember my nostalgic streak biting back hard at the time as the floodgates of memories opened up on everything little thing I thought I had forgotten. Things from my childhood cropping up that I didn't realized I missed until I really thought about them and what they provided. Even through the rocky times and the moments where I wanted to hate my father so much I found I just couldn't, a part of me truly is soft deep down inside much to the dismay or judgements of others.
One of the things I promised myself was to not make the same mistakes as my old man; That I'd embrace my faults and not let them get the best of me but rather understand them and do what I can with them to make life easier if I could. It's difficult for me to put this into words but it's the sense of having foresight to know what I should do spite it being hard because of what I've witnessed other people doing.
There was a lot of potential I believe my father had (just like anyone) but in the end he wasn't able to achieve that, I think that was one of the things that hurt the most is seeing him crumble away into fruitless desires and inevitably force a wedge between him and others. It's that self destructiveness and the passiveness to not change course that eventually takes it's toll on the people around you even without you realizing it, perhaps that's why as much as I frankly don't give a shit about other people and what they think of me I still try to make life as pleasant as possible if I can. Life isn't worth living if everything has to be done out of spite or out of your own vindictiveness. I don't think so anyways especially now that I've gotten older and I've mellowed over the years.
A person's death is one of those strange occurrences that shifts your mindset and is something that you can't really prepare for or fully explain to someone if they haven't experienced it for themselves. Sure, everyone mourns differently - hell even some other species do like elephants or wolves but it's that connection being severed that places a solid ground for people. Sometimes it's fear that you really are here for a limited time, that sense of your own mortality or that deep sense of connection with those around you as people come out of the dark to comfort you in your hour of need.
I've had people ask me if I'm afraid to go, but frankly it's not me I'm afraid for but rather who I'm going to leave behind and the kind of state they'll be in. I don't want to leave others unable to cope once I'm gone, I want them to be strong and remember me for the small yet impactful things I might've done. Even if it's just one person that I changed the course through some strange turn of events for the better that would be good enough for me.
I think my father's death really put things into perspective for me that no matter how much prep time I have for something, I'll never truly be prepared. Life is funny enough like that overall, it's why I've had to loosen up the reigns on myself and having to have everything scheduled - there's no point, it should be a strong guideline but not set in stone if you can help it.
One of the more interesting things that I don't think people talk about much is how one person can keep other people in touch and connected with one another. You take that person out of the equation and you drop other pieces completely. There's now an entire part of my family that doesn't talk to me or some of the other people now that my father is gone and I don't know if I ever will talk to them again. I'm not someone to go chasing others to get their attention, I've done enough of that to last me a lifetime. Some people really are the glue that keeps everyone together, it's incredible what kind of small yet loud impact someone can have on your life even if they're not super close to you.
The biggest takeaway from all of this is no matter how long it's been, a part of you will always long for the person that's gone. I think how I handled it will be a lot different from a lot of people because I have my emotions buried so deep. I tend not to show how I feel but I still feel deeply about the moment, it was bad enough that a small handful of people thought I didn't care. That always struck me as jarring and is definitely one thing I'll forever remember about my father's passing is how little I wear my heart on my sleeve. It's not that I don't intend to, it's just how I am, how I've been and probably how I always will be.
Hopefully where ever he is he's resting easy. He might not of been perfect by any means - none of us are - but I like to think that the soul heals over time even on the other side...
Cheers.
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