5 years

I have cried nearly every day for five years. I cried in the forest this week on a field trip with my daughter's second grade class. One of our barefoot guides started gently singing to get the kids to quiet down and listen. One of the lines was, "I am one. Am one with the earth. My roots go down to the earth." It moved me to tears. The thought of being part of a bigger connection, finding meaning in that connection within nature, flooded me.

I think back to all the feelings I had while he was dying. I was worried about him but mainly for myself and my kids. Five years later I worry more about him and how scared he must have been. How sad he must have been. I imagine the pain he must have been in. I mourn for him and not being a person who said to him, "YOU must be so scared." I cringe at knowing that I was one of the people he needed to comfort while he was dying.

I miss him.

Desperately.

I talk to him over and over and all I can squeak out past my swollen throat is, "I miss you so much."

His 70th birthday is coming up next month. It upsets my stomach knowing that such a milestone birthday will never be had. I mourn for him and for me and for my kids.

As my youngest (age 4) would say, "Dad, I love you so, so, so much!"

5 years ago

It has been five years--and, thank goodness, I am beginning to be in a better place. A place where I can remember my dad without sobbing and a place where I can reference the man he was in conversations without choking my throat.

It is still, very, very, hard.

We went to Disneyland last week and I thought about him as I was walking in the entrance. I thought about how he would have wanted to be there with us and how he was the one who took me as a child. I wanted to ask him questions about how I acted and which rides we rode together, and felt my loss knowing that I never can find those answers.

Life isn't fair.

I miss him.

I have a need to get to a forest and explore with my children as we walk together. I have a need to celebrate him and commemorate him through nature and being at peace with nature and the continuation of life.

Last week I had a dream and saw him. His image was so brief but he was smiling at me, eyes crinkled up and a huge grin on his face while his hands stretched out beckoning me to him. I ran to him and hugged him so hard I almost knocked us over. I pressed into his hug and felt my arms around his back and never wanted to let go.

I love it when I dream about him. I like to believe that it is him visiting me from the world beyond. It is him saying that he is okay and that he is still with me. I find comfort in these dreams.

Dreams--sadness

Before my father passed, I didn't know about sobbing dreams. I had had nightmares and night terrors--dreams of intense anxiety and confusion. Dreams where I was running for my life and didn't know if I would live.

And now I have heart swallowing crushing dreams of sadness. Last night I dreamt that I was saying goodbye to my Dad all over again. He was lying in a bed and the tears poured down my cheeks as I stroked his forehead saying over and over, "I love you." My body was exhausted from crying and not breathing well. I sobbed until I couldn't catch my breath. The sadness is overwhelming.

I didn't know pain like this until he died. I knew fear, anxiety, frustration, and anger. However, this pain, this bone crushing all consuming pain is far different than I have ever known.

During the day I feel like I am managing my sadness better. This summer marks the 5th anniversary of his death and I am finally at the point of being able to talk about him and look at pictures of him without crying. I don't have night terrors of sadness often, thank God! But when I do, they bring me back to this place of loss.

I never knew true loss until his death.

Dad Dream

In my dreams I am excited to see him and I know he is dying. I don't have dreams where I already know he is dead and I am astonished to see him. I don't race to him.

Instead, my dreams focus on spending as much time with him, knowing the end is coming. My behavior is cautious and determined. I can feel sadness and desperation in my dreams, thankfully his death is never a surprise.

Probably how I was when he was dying. I was aware of not making him sad. I was cautious in how I talked and if I worried or taxed him. I was trying to look out for him, but ended up keeping us at arms length. This is one of my biggest regrets.

Last night I dreamed that I was going on a personal yacht with eight people. I didn't know the others, and felt it was a field trip of sorts, with young adults and a few older folks manning the boat. I was in the back of the yacht looking forward at my father. He was still bald but his dark brown wavy hair had grown long down his back. It curled like mine and it gave me pleasure to notice how similar our hair is. He was standing mid ship with one leg jauntily placed on the back of a chair. His hair was blowing with the motion of the boat and he had a large smile on his face. He looked very, very, happy.

I wasn't able to talk to him on the boat and, instead, watched his joy.

When we docked, I was in charge of some of the others and didn't know where he was. I knew that he was near but couldn't see him. Off the boat, we walked alongside a canal. On our side of the canal was grass and trails. We looked out to the other side of large multi-story apartment or condo buildings. My dad told me that he liked to visit these at Christmas because they decorated well with wreaths and lights. I remember making a note of this and knowing that I would come back to visit this spot after he was gone.

After returning to the boat, we rode home, and I didn't see him. We all disembarked and I was in charge of securing the yacht to the boat slip. The rope fell through my fingers and the yacht slowly drifted away. I screamed and panicked and cried for help.

What does this all mean? This dream speaks to me of anxiety and my loss. My bright spot is being surprised by my dad and how he has changed. The most important part was seeing his joy.