Healing from Loss

When someone you love dies, the sadness consumes you. Nothing can prepare you for the pain and for a while, nothing can comfort you. Fortunately, the pain does eventually stop paralyzing you and life begins again. Monday marks a year since my father died, and I can honestly say that I'm doing much better than a year ago. However I woke up this morning at 6:33 am, about two hours earlier than I usually do on a Saturday, and all I could do is think about my father and how I miss him.

Losing my father, felt like I had just entered the Twilight Zone. Because someone I had loved for over 35 years, who took care of me and protected me my entire life, was gone, and wasn't coming back. I did a lot of sleeping after he passed, because when I slept, I didn't feel any pain. Sometimes I still feel like I'm living in an alternate reality. Like he's stuck somewhere between the planets and I'm stuck here, without him.

The first three months were the worst. I didn't want to talk to anyone, and I didn't want anyone to talk to me. I was consumed by pain, and then anger. I was angry that people expected me to go on with life as usual. And while I knew it was meant to comfort me, I would get more angry when people told me "it's okay, he's with God." While I believed that he was with God, things certainly were not okay. My father was gone, and I was in so much pain, sometimes I felt like I was dying. Eventually though, I realized that I did have to move on with my life. It’s easier said than done, but fortunately for me, God stepped in and pulled me out of my sadness.

After having a meltdown at work a month prior, I was riding the subway to work one day, reading the Sophie Kinsella book "Remember Me?" It had been my only escape from the pain but I had never really laughed while reading it until that day. I was on the part of the book where the main character is finally comfortable enough to have sex with the husband she doesn't remember. Until he asks her a very awkward, robotic question. The scene was so hysterical that I literally belted laughter out loud, and couldn't stop laughing. If I had been drinking something, I would have spit out the drink and possibly had some come through my nose. For the first time in months, I actually felt joy.

It was at that moment of joy that I heard God's voice. I heard him say "this is the April I know and love. Funny and full of life. This is the way you have to be again." I remember feeling emotional, but still happy, realizing that my father would speak the same words to me if he were here. It was then that I knew I had to let the pain go, stop mourning his life, and start living mine again.

Now when I feel like crying, sometimes I do, but sometimes instead, I reminisce about how fun he was to be around. He had a ton of crazy expressions that always made me laugh. For instance, he would refer to people as "jokers" and call money "duckets" instead of cash, like normal people. Or he would say that he'd "be back in a few shakes" when he would go out. I sometimes find myself using these same phrases and laugh out loud, and it turns my sadness to joy. Joy knowing that I was blessed to have a father with such an animated and entertaining spirit.

So while this upcoming Monday marks a year since he’s been gone, I choose to celebrate his life, rather than mourn it. I know my father would want for me to be happy and go on with my life. And while my life sometimes feels very empty without him, it’s the only life I have, and I’ve got to keep pushing on. As an adult, I’ve come to learn that those things in life that are the hardest for us to do, usually are the things we need to do most. They are painful, and sometimes take all the strength we have, but they are the decisions that make life easier in the long run. They help us to move on to live the life we are meant to live. It’s not easy, but God never said this life would be easy; he did however say that he would never leave us; and that’s something I can definitely live with.