memories,  the anomaly that is me

about last september

It’s a year today that my father passed away. I never did write about any of this, and I kept meaning to. But I still have thank you cards to send out to those who came to the funeral, or sent sympathy, and honestly? I haven’t been able to do any of that.

We’ve had our full Year of Firsts. First Thanksgiving, first Christmas, first birthday, first wedding anniversary, first father’s day. First of a lot of things. Sometimes I catch myself holding in a breath and thinking, “oh my god, my dad’s gone”. It hits at weird times.

I don’t remember much about last September. I pretty much lost 2 weeks of work in a job I was just learning. The week I spent with my mother (after my father – in true Impatient Healy Fashion – passed away the morning after he spoke with everyone he needed to speak with, rather than sticking around for the few weeks/months the doctors thought he had) went by in a blur. I was so thankful that I was there, speaking with my Mum, when my father passed. I was so thankful that I could stay with her that week and (try to) get things done.

I am so thankful for family, and friends, who were there for me through everything.

The last year has been a roller coaster for many reasons. I get motion sick so easily, that it’s been difficult to process. When things change drastically, they seem to all change at once. For better, or for worse, the changes come and you adapt, you deal. You make the most of what you have in front of you, and try not to dwell on what was lost.

And I miss my Dad. And I love my family. And I am bracing myself for new adventures. And. And. And.

And now we’ve reached the first anniversary of the passing of my father. Full circle. It doesn’t make it any less sad, nor does it make it any more sad. It will continue to hit me at random moments. I will have jolts of sadness, and jolts of laughter. My sister and her family were there when they put him in the wall at the cemetery (ok, enterrement…but technically it IS just putting his urn in a wall!), and he’s at peace and no longer in pain. My mother is thriving in her new city, and we are all coping. And we have each other.

But wow, do years fly by in a blink when they are so full of emotion.

I love you, Daddy. I hope you’re surrounded by flowers and butterflies. I hope you’re happy. And I truly hope you’re at peace.

One Comment

  • Patty Johnstone

    Hi Cat, I read your thoughts about last September. I am happy that you are able to share some of your thoughts and feelings. I can identify with losing a father. Our Dad was the anchor of our family. We were so young and so shocked when he died. We all stayed strong for one and other and for my mother. I don’t think that to this day we have actually processed the grief we felt. We just tucked our heads in our wings and trudged on. I still see him in my memories and smile at the wonder of him. I think he was God’s greatest gift to me! Beautiful fathers are priceless gifts. Take care and keep blogging. Your thoughts are lovely!

%d bloggers like this: