Even though it has been more than 3 months there are moments that my heart still aches about the loss of my father.Tonight, my 6 year-old son, Brisbane, was saying his prayers. They started out very routine until he got very quiet and his voice cracked. He asked Heavenly Father to bless Grandpa Brown that he would get well so he could see him again. When he was done with his prayers he said, "Mom, I really miss Grandpa and Grandma Brown." I then explained that he would see Grandma very soon because she is coming to Grandparent's Day in couple weeks. I went on to tell him that he would not see Grandpa very soon because his body could not recover from his illnesses and he passed away. I asked him, with tears streaming down my face, if he remembered the funeral this summer and he did. He said, "I just really miss him." So do I Brisbane, so do I. We will keep him close in our hearts. We will reminisce about all the good times we had with him and we will look at his pictures often.
I started out this school year having my students do a "Brown Bag project". (No pun intended.) This consisted of each student bringing things about themselves and to describe themselves, but they had to fit into a brown bag. I demonstrated on the 3rd day of school and in my bag I had a copy of my dad's funeral program. Each time I got to that part, my voice would quaver and sometimes I teared up. I was not sure why I shared what was close to my heart with junior high students, except that in each class I had students come up to me afterwards and say, "My mom died when I was 6 and I still cry about it, Mrs. S." or "My dad left us when I was 10 and it makes me cry too." The Instructional Aide in one class has become a support unit for me because she shared her grieving process. A few years ago her granddaughter was killed in a car accident and shortly thereafter her daughter committed suicide. Little did they know that their stories made me bawl on my way home but also made me grateful for the good father that he was and all of the beautiful time I was able to spend with him here on earth.
As I told a neighbor who just lost a grandchild, the sense of loss is still the same whether the loved one is 6 weeks or 66 years old. There is just never enough time with them here on earth. Grieving is taking precious memories and putting them into your everyday life, never forgetting, but finding a different kind of normal.
I love you, Dad!
