Today would have been my dad’s 76th birthday. He died 5 years ago. We let him go, then the world shut down. It’s taken 5 years for me to even be able to reflect on that time and not feel sick.
I grieved my father years before his actual death. It still hit me in ways I never could have expected. I connected more with him as he was dying than I did most of my life. I talk to his spirit more now than I ever did when he was alive. I’m still untangling from the things he did, but that’s the task of all children. I can only hope all the work I’ve done and continue to do ends the generation trauma with me, and my children are spared.
I’m fine with the peace I’ve found in his death. The grief I feel is not adjusting to life without him, but rather I didn’t get more of his goodness when he was alive. His own trauma and horrible choices made that impossible. So, I now get that goodness through his memory- listening to the music he loved, wearing his shirts I inherited, telling my kids he’s a guardian angel for him. I can only hope his spirit has found peace too.