Grief is such a long process, longer than you ever imagine. I never thought I’d still be finding things hard this long afterwards. Don’t get me wrong I’m doing ok and get by day to day and am able to enjoy my life but I still have those moments. Moments where I remember Dad isn’t around anymore and I that I can’t just send him a quick email, whatsapp or have a frustratingly intermittent chat to him in India via Skype.
Recently I have had some pretty big life changes, my husband and I had a very rough few months, really tough, so tough we weren’t sure what the future held and if we were going to make it through to the otherside. But we did, despite the loss of Poppa M in the middle of it all, in fact if anything I think it helped reignite the fight back in us both and we picked ourselves up, dusted ourselves off and got back on the horse.
So we’re now living in bliss, nesting in our long awaited new home, enjoying planning and building our life moving forward. We’re settling back into life together as a family as a supposed to dancing around stacked up boxes and furniture at my motherships. We’re no longer feeling like the teenage delinquents living back a Granny T’s whilst she tells us off for our bad habits but then still lovingly cooks tea for us!
I should be high as kite and to be honest I am, I’m loving umming and ahhing with my man about how to fit the washer, where to angle the sofa or place the kitchen bin (yes I’m that picky!!). Yet amongst all this excitement, relief and enjoyment, I’m teary. Really teary and a lot more than I have been for awhile.
All because Pappa isn’t here, even though he wouldn’t have been anyway. He’d have flown back to India by now and I’d have had contact via the worldwide web. But that’s just it, that’s what I’m missing, the text about how to fit said washer, the emailed photograph of said kitchen bin or Skype tour of our new pad. I’m not getting to share that and to be honest, Dad was never very good at sharing these things, he’d always be happy for us but struggled to show his interest from such a distance. He never knew what to say. But I was still able to beam with pride and show him.
That’s what I miss, being able to show him. And that’s what I’m always going to miss, being able to share with him the accomplishments and happy times I’m going to have.
Most importantly, I just wish he’d been able to see me and my husband come through the otherside. He may not have been good with long distance displays of affection, but he did always “just want to know that we’re all ok” and I never got the chance to show him that now we are.
So let’s hope the spiritualists in us all are right and that Pops is looking down and knows we’re ok. More than ok, we’re happy and content.