Eight Months On

I'm so grateful that this has been a very long month. As much as we all just want these rubbish covid times to pass, for me, I hate being further away from the last time I was with my Dad. Every single month has flown by and it's frightened me. October has been a month full of anticipation for the festivities ahead, (well, maybe not now!) and also a month full of sadness that I won't be sharing these moments with my Dad. A real 'joy and grief' co-existing month.

As the festive period begins I'm overwhelmed with the joy I feel for Christmas, the food, the lights, the decorations, the films, the music, I absolutely adore the music. I may have mentioned in my last post, maybe not, but straight away after losing Dad I said 'There's no way I can celebrate Christmas, no trees, no lights, no music, no NOTHING'. But over the last month or so I've fully changed my mind and I have gone full force into Christmas mode like NEVER before. I want it all, the lights, the music, the decorations, all of it. The reason is that it makes me feel SO close to Dad and my happiest memories, it makes me feel like I've gone back in time and that's the best gift I could give to myself. I see my Dad in the music, I see my Dad in the frosty winter air when the sky is blue and the sun is beaming. I see my Dad in the beautiful lights and the wacky decorations. I see my Dad in every childhood Christmas movie. I could never give up all of this because I'd be giving up my precious memories of him.

Everybody has their own ways of coping with grief and this is one I never expected for myself, but it's truly carrying me through one of the most painful times of the year. Yes, there are tears, my God there is tears whilst I'm singing, tears whilst I'm browsing the shops, but there is so much love and joy there too and I'm trying to choose the joy and hold it tight when I can, and cry when I need to.

Today, I sat in the same spot where I was when I found out my Dad had passed away and I looked down the corridor, imagining seeing him there like I usually would and said out loud 'Eight months, it's been eight months? Wow, that's too long to not have seen you'. I cried, my cat ran off and left me alone and I continued to plough through old photos of him. I guess there's nothing I can do about time passing by, but I will do everything to carry my Dad with me so he's never too far and time won't mean a thing.

I love you so much Dad, I sob every time I write these and secretly hope you're over my shoulder reading it with me and feeling it too. I miss you more and more and more and more and I'll never stop. ❤️️