The death of my father was the death of the best part of me. I did not afford myself the proper opportunity to grieve for the person I adored most in the world. As a daughter and a mother, I had to pretend everything was fine. But it wasn’t fine and it is still not fine. The beauty of a great bond with someone like a parent is the love and admiration that marks a lifetime. The difficulty in that bond is, when it ends in the physical realm, it leaves a massive hole in one’s heart and one’s life. It sounds morbid and it is not meant to be, but I look forward to the day I can be reunited with my father in heaven, if I am lucky enough to be admitted to heaven. I am not rushing anything because I know I have more work left to do here and I have people counting on me.
Ironically, the person who has helped me the most since my father’s death is my father. We always had a special language and understanding and in death, just like in life, he has not let me down. He sends me messages all the time through songs and nature and sometimes, a comment from a stranger. It has sustained me. I cannot even imagine the things he has saved me from that I have no knowledge of. I can name the ones I do know of but I am not going to do that.
I have come to realize in the last few years that my Dad was the one pushing me to move forward and encouraging me to take chances. Without his nudging, I have become stagnant and afraid to make any changes. This is not good. It has become unhealthy. I have always been an independent thinker and I do not seek advice readily. But I always went to my father for his opinion on any topic. He was thoughtful, kind and wise. His opinion always mattered. And honestly, even if he thought it might be a landmine of an idea or move, he would shrug and say, “Nothing ventured, nothing gained.” Simple but honest advice. Boy, do I miss that. I miss knowing that the one person who really understood me is not a call or drive away anymore. My message in the sand says it all….I was hoping the day I did that, he would look down from heaven and see it. The people on the beach at the time probably thought I was insane but Dad would say, “Mary, they don’t pay your bills, so it doesn’t matter what they think of you.” Such a wise gentleman!
