Thursday, October 13, 2011

On the Other Side

My dad isn't sick. He's not dying. He didn't die last week or month or even this past summer. When I went to the Yizkor service for him on Yom Kippur, it wasn't the first time. My father's illness and death and excruciating absence are facts of life. They are as much a part of my family's daily life as the fact that my daughter has blonde hair. It's just something we all know.

There is a sort of peace in that. I still miss him, and I still wonder whether we could have wrung out any more quality time together, or made better use of the time we did have. But in the main, I am no longer shocked when it dawns on me from time to time that my dad is gone.

I am reaching a point where I recall things about him and can just enjoy a memory without all the weight of having to relive the last few months of his life. That feels like progress.

1 comment:

  1. Your dad was always proud of you and your sister in all you both accomplished.
    Enjoy the memories and smile.

    M

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