Thursday, June 21, 2007

So Dad stopped by yesterday afternoon.....

See, the thing that really sucks about this grief thing is the acting normal at work. I know, I know, I wouldn't really want to be a woman of leisure because I'd go completely out of my gourd without something to distract me from the ache. So the coping mechanism kicks in, you go to work, do your tasks, only think about the elephant in your head a couple of times a day, fleeting thoughts because you need to be acting normal now, it's not even that conscious a decision really, and then you get in the car to go home. And you don't even realize that you've been holding anything in...you've been going about your business, but getting away from work gives you back your permission to be sad. A memory slips in, and you try to shove it aside, because it's a particularly hard one and you'd rather not cry while you're driving in the rain...your driving's bad enough as it is.

That's what was happening yesterday...I'd been going along OK at work Wednesday, a little slow, but holding it together fine. Then I'm driving home lost in thought, and the memory bank turns on. And it's from when I flew into the room to find him gone, his spirit already leaving the room, surrounded by people in tears. I hugged him around the head and kissed him hard, and couldn't get the words out. This starts to play back in my head, and I can't shove it aside; I'm getting that lump in my throat and the feeling that my wind's been taken away. I punch buttons on the radio, changing channels, to try to distract myself, and I hit the local '80s station...playing "Drive" by The Cars. Their only ballad on that terrific Heartbeat City LP. Dad loved that song, he loved the melody after the 2nd bridge, he'd make everyone stop and listen to that when it played. And the waterworks turned on full-blast, but it wasn't sorrow, it was laughter...it was OK, I get it, pal, remember the good times for now, remember what made me happy, and remember that I'm here for you still when you need me...I talked to him and cried, and thanked him, and promised him that we were OK...

Still hurts like hell, but I'm going to try to hang onto the lesson I was given yesterday. Coincidence that that song came on? Oh very likely, but I took away from it something precious.

1 comment:

Lynn said...

Pennies from Heaen…
The music reminded me of a story...my sister's father in law passed away. It was expected, but it didn’t make it easier. The mother in law was old fashion and very southern bellish:) She had to learn to do things that he always did. Each time she did one of these things (like pumping gas) she would find a bight shinny penny. She believed that it was his way to say he was there and he was proud of her. After 2 years the pennies started to not show up as much. She says she has a jar full of pennies, a life time of memories and the knowledge he loved her so much he stayed close by to make sure she was ok. It was time for him to find his peace.
Take the time you need. Listen to your heart and you will know when you are ready.
We all love you very much.