Wow. What a year it has been. Thursday (9/12/13) marked one year since my dad unexpectedly passed away due to a fatal arrhythmia. We, my son, mom, sister & her family, brother & his family, all met up at the Sandy Trout Farm to take the little ones (Malachi, Presley, Reegan, Kale, & Elsa) fishing. It was nice to reunite, after all we have been through, to just sit, fish, have lunch, fish some more, and just relax. Just like my dad would have done if he were there and fishing with us.
Between his passing, a separated marriage, rehab, co-dependency, Al-anon, digging deeper into recovery, stepping away from recovery, trying to manage all the pieces, letting all the pieces go, losing jobs, facing (or not facing) fears, finding all we can to distract ourselves from us, going (or not going) to counseling, and in one way or another re-discovering ourselves, all the while having five kids under the age of five trying to make sense of our madness and still maintain their childhood in some kind of positive light has truly been rough on the whole dynamic of this family.
So, it's been a year. I don't know that this feeling will ever go away, but some days are definitely more difficult than others. Counseling has been an amazing tool to work through this, along with Float meditations (see floathq.com), color therapy (see cltexperiment.blogspot.com), re-discovering old hobbies, and utilizing a creative outlet (painting, drawing, writing, and knotting up hemp jewelry). New realizations colliding with old ones. Finding the truth of self amongst the rubble of the wreckage from the great impact.
I was listening to a music playlist channel online and the song Gravedigger, by Dave Mathews, came on--which by the way if you have not heard it, is AMAZING! One of my favorite songs. At any rate, I started to sing along and felt myself tearing up and having a difficult time through the song. And at some time during that song I realized how much my dad held us all together. My dad used to hold a barbeque practically every weekend (usually Sundays) and since his passing, we've maybe gotten together (all of us without some kind of turmoil or tension) once. ONCE. That's when we just went fishing two days ago. It could be argued that it has happened more than that, as the level of tension and turmoil is subjective to one's own emotional experience in the moment. I have definitely made an effort to detach from people (in general) than I ever recall doing in the past. At this point I'd like to just state that in this observation there is no right or wrong, it just is. I am definitely not opposed to comfortable taking the time we all need to find the peace and healing that comes with such a great loss as this and know in my heart that eventually we will all come back together from time to time--maybe not as often as my dad would have encouraged, but now it's kind of like herding cats instead of embracing love.
To close with this post, I'll just say that, over the years I have experienced 37 significant people in my life pass away, including my best friend who overdosed when he was 22 (I was 21). My dad was by far the greatest. I am not minimizing the relationships of the others nor am I minimizing the loss of those people in my life--if I could have three minutes back with each of them I would hold them tight and wish for three more. Every single one of them. For those reading this who have not been through anything like this yet, please know there is healing through the loss and through the change. I believe myself to be proof of this, however limited my sanity might be. I am far from having my shit together; however I am more at peace within myself than I have ever been in my entire life. This, I believe, to be the direct result of all the work I have done to seek the needed healing. I am available for discussion through messaging and private face-to-face as well. This included you even if I have never met you; just send me a message.
Ha ha--I still send my dad text messages when I feel it's needed. AND I totally appreciate whoever has my dad's old number for not being a dick about it and sending me back a rude text. They have done well remaining quiet. Thank you for your compassion. lol.
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