The day my dad passed away, we all left the hospital to head home to start organising the funeral. I didn’t want to leave him, but I didn’t want to stay either. I was about 32 weeks pregnant, I had only slept a couple of hours on hospital pull out sofa along with two of my siblings. The ‘passing’ was traumatic. There was nothing peaceful about it. We knew deep down it was coming, but it felt so sudden, way too sudden. The heart monitor beeped flat – I screamed, my mum screamed, my sister screamed. We all screamed, and we didn’t care who heard.
On the way home Jared and I popped into a shopping centre where I bought some new maternity leggings (my current ones were riddled with holes), a new shirt and some earrings. I remember walking around the shop feeling like I was in a bubble, and I wanted to tell everyone that my dad was dead. I had seen it. I knew I was delaying heading back to my parents house, and it probably seemed like a strange thing to do. I didn’t want to see my mum the day that the love of her life passed away, or see the heartbreak of my ten siblings. I didn’t want to face the emptiness, or face planning a funeral I didn’t want to go to.
I got back in the car and changed immediately into my new clothes. This is something I often do when I buy new things, but this time there was so much more meaning behind it. I wanted to arrive home feeling refreshed, and ready to face reality. I didn’t think much about the earrings I’d just bought, but over the next few weeks they became really important to me and I couldn’t take them out. A subtle reminder of the day that he died, and I felt that I had a small piece of him with me at all times. After his funeral I took a single red rose from the casket arrangement. I kept it safe and now it hangs discreetly by our front door. Another subtle reminder that he is not here, and something I will treasure forever.
My dad loved music of every kind – organ recitals, opera, big orchestral pieces, George Michael, Elton John, Robbie Williams, Pavarotti, The Beach Boys, Madness, Lighthouse Family and his all time favourite, Elvis. It is impossible (I’ve tried) to go through one single day without hearing a song that reminds me of him. When I go into a shop, when I listen to the radio, or am just out and about. He loved dancing, and had a number of anticipated moves. He is literally everywhere, and I’ve come to realise this can be such a blessing.
I’m not ready for pictures of him in our house. I wish I was, but I’m not. I don’t want any more reminders that he’s not here. Not a day goes by that I don’t wish he were here, and I missed him so much on our recent holiday. I kept wondering what he would be doing, what jokes he’d be cracking, what he would be doing and things he’d be talking to me about. I missed him telling me where he would be taking me mum on their day out together, and providing dark chocolate for us all.
It really is the little things you miss when someone is gone.
Oh huni, I can’t imagine. I remember reading your first post about your Dad’s passing and I felt so sad. The sadness can only signify how very, very important he was x x x
Thanks Kerry – you are so kind! x
Oh that was beautiful.at least you have a faith that you will see him again that must give you comfort X
Thank you Jackie. Absolutely! x
I love the way you talk about your Dad Esther. Your bond with him reminds me so much of mine with my Dad and he is also a huge Elvis fan. Me too. I have just been talking to Ty about how I met you at BM and that you’d never have thought you were going through loss as you are such a positive person even upon meeting once. I think he would be very proud of you, I can’t possibly imagine how you feel but just wanted to send you some hugs and thoughts. Here if you ever need a chat x
Thanks Nat! I’m so glad I have Elvis to remind me of my dad. Such a good thing. You are so kind Nat, and I so appreciate your kind words xx
Esther, I totally know how this feels. It took me ages to come to terms with the death of my father. After a while, I asked my brothers who had the all the old family photographs when we were kids. They say time is the being the healer and it is. Doing this as much as you can with your family, your brother and sisters.
The Atonement helped me through my pain and helped me to know I would see my parents once more.
Thanks so much John xx
I don’t know where to start and I am not going to try to say anything about knowing how you feel because I do not. Your Dad was amazing we all know that, and everything we do his presence is missed by us all, but I also know, like a ripple, some of us are less affected than you guys closer to the heart of it. I cannot imagine what you feel to lose a father, especially one as brilliant as yours!
I do find so much truth and have experienced what you are saying about the smallest of things that bring a connection to them or reminder.. thats the hard part, theyre the things that prick your heart a little more so, and I remember that bubble feeling too and seeing the world move and carry on as normal when to you such a significant change has take place, a great loss. Do what you need to when you need to, you will be ready one day to have pics or other sentiments of him, for now you have what you can cope with to remember x
Thanks Mary. Loved reading this and it is absolutely the smallest things, but these can be such a blessing too xx
Oh Esther – I remember living with you when you’d pile on all your newly acquired possessions – Teeheeheehee. I can only imagine your heartbreak. Your Dad was lovely. Lots of love and thoughts being sent to you and your family xxx
You’ll be pleased to know, I still do it! I can’t help myself. Thank you Laris xxx
I’m so sorry for your loss. I know it hasn’t just happened but these things don’t get any easier do they? I love the things you’ve kept and I understand the thing about photos, one day I’m sure you’ll feel ready and they’ll be comforting to you but that will only happen with time.
Thank you so much Nat. I honestly can’t wait for the day when I can have his lovely face in my home – hopefully not too far away xx
You talk about your Dad so beautifully Esther, he sounds like such an amazing man, to have his daughter write so beautifully about him is the very best tribute. He sounds very special, time is the only thing that will make it more bearable xxx
Thank you for your lovely words Hayley. He really was wonderful xx