Blast From The Past – Mixed Feelings

rainbow

There’s a lot on my mind today and yet I can’t really put it in words. It’s one of those moments where you want to express yourself but simply can’t. I still don’t really know if I have processed it. I guess it’s not real. It’s just not real because I don’t “feel” the loss. It’s not part of my day to day life. Sometimes it’s a good thing, sometimes not.

I guess when you lose someone that was so important to you all of your life and you are used to seeing that person on a regular base it hits you hard. Not that it wouldn’t have hit me.

But it’s probably easier to forget that the person is actually gone when you lived the past 10 years on the opposite sides of this planet. You don’t see each other. The days go by and it’s just normal to not spend time together. And then, when that person is gone, it doesn’t change your day to day really. Because it’s not as if a part of it was removed.

On some days I’m not even aware of the fact that my Dad is no longer with us. But then it hits me and it almost feels like a little electric shock. It’s real. He is no longer here. There will no longer be moments to share, memories to be make. No more phone calls. No more hearing him whistle with the birds, no more of his giggling. I will not have the chance anymore to hug him and smell the very familiar scent of his skin or aftershave.

It comes in waves, that realization that he is gone. I still have no answers to the questions that were in my head when I wrote the following post one year ago. What I do know is, that he is up there with the stars, whistling with the wind now…

I really don’t know where this post will go. I don’t know to which point my thoughts are sorted. Or not sorted. I’m somewhere between feeling incredibly sad and kind of calm, kind of at peace. I’m not sure if it has sunk in just yet. Not sure if I was able to give what I wanted to give. Not sure if I was able to let him know what he needed to know. And yet I think I could give him peace. Not sure if he found closure or if it was just pure coincidence.

It’s interesting. Life and death. The way we deal with it, the expectations we have. The way we think we would feel like when we are confronted for the first time with the loss of someone who’s really close to us. The way we deal with the passing, the moments of support of the person who is leaving us. The moments after…

A mix of feelings. Fear, sadness, hope, dreams, memories and loss. And we wonder. We wonder what actually will be there when we close our eyes for good. What will be when the last breath is taken, when the clocks stop?

Where do we go? Does it matter where we go at all?

Of course it’s all sort of different depending on the age of the person who’s about to leave us. Or who left us. It’s all a bit dependent on our believes as well. But in the end we still wonder, right? There are so many questions.

People say that it’s good to find closure. Closure is a big word, don’t you think? Yes, you find closure when you can be with the person you love. The person who is about to leave this world. Yes, you find closure in a way if you can tell this person everything you always wanted to say. And yes, you find closure if this person can tell you things you want to hear as well. But there is still questions that remains open: Did the person found closure? Where do we go? Will we be together again at one point and how does it feel…

How does it feel?

He left peacefully… is it just something we say because it’s what we want to hear or believe? Or is it really the case? How can we be sure that someone actually left peacefully? When we look at the body that is about to turn into only a shell, a body that is only functional because the impulses are still given, how can we be sure that the soul is at peace?

Maybe we can feel it.

Maybe it’s the feeling we get when we sit there and hold the hand that is about to get cold. Maybe it’s the internal dialog we might have.

And then you wonder… that internal dialog… is it just in your mind or does it really happen. Is the feeling you think you might receive just something you come up with? The feeling you would like to have at this point? The one thing that actually calms you down because you can’t understand or deal with the loss you suffer?

So many things going on in your mind.

Memories over and over again. Not only of moments but of scents, touches, voices. Will you still be able to remember them once the person is gone? Will you remember how holding hands with this person will feel like when the person is gone? Will you remember the sound of the voice, the scent, the smile?

So many thoughts.

And then you realize that this person will never be gone for good. Parts will live on. In you, in your children in your memories. In the stories told by you, by your family. By friends. Bit by bit you will pass on the memories. To others. Stories that will be told. And some of them will put a smile on your face.

You realize that the touch of the hand will not be forgotten. Nothing really will.

Because it’s what it’s all about.

We will live on. Our stories will be told. Our smiles will be remembered. The touch of our hand will be missed but the feeling will never be forgotten. Because it’s something that is important to you.

I wondered… I wondered where he will go. I stopped wondering. Not because I know. But because I want him to go there. I want him to be the wind. The rain. The sun, the snow, the ocean, the sand, the tree. I want him to be the scent of spring, summer, fall and winter. I want him to be the yellow of a sunflower, the red of a rose, the blue of the sky. I want him to be the sparkling star, the moon. I want him to be there. And I know he will. Without me hanging on to his soul. I want it out there, up there. I want him to spread his wings and fly. Like an eagle. No pulling back.

In the end it’s never about us. It’s not about them. It’s about letting go and finding peace. It’s about love and memories. Life and death. Hanging on and letting go. Finding peace in a way that works for you.

We are all different. The way we deal with our losses are never the same. And that’s okay.

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19 thoughts on “Blast From The Past – Mixed Feelings

  1. Lovely and loving thoughts here, Sandra. I think so much has to do with the kind of relationship we had or did not have with each individual that passes, no matter the geographic distance. There is an emotional distance that seems to matter much more in the process of grief. My reaction to my mother’s death at age 53, very raw and unsettled, lots of anger and guilt, what if’s. When my father died at 74, I had found peace with him on so many issues, and while I grieved his loss, it was not nearly as difficult for me on a personal level.

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  3. Lovely post Sandra. I know exactly where you’re coming from and it is so hard to believe a year has passed since losing your Dad. Mine is always with me, in the photographs we have aboard, the marquetry he did, his poems, his little ornamental cottage in our shelving unit, so many physical things and the spiritual ones I hold in my memory. I miss him still after all this time, but he is here, just in a different way.
    A beautiful tribute to your Dad. ❀

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  4. Sandra, this was such an endearing post. You touch on so many vivid and poignant moments that fix the relationship you shared with your Dad, and gave an honest voice to your yet-to-be-resolved grief. What strikes me so powerfully is that despite a grief that would bury so many others, you can already see (and share) the promise of peace and hope that lies within your grasp.

    You’re amazing people Sandra, and I’m glad to be following your journey here.

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  5. I’m crying as I write this Sandra because it brought back so many feelings and emotions of the last year, of losing mum and missing her. Every now and then I think of her and find it hard to remember her voice or how she felt and that makes me sad. But I have so many memories inside me that I cherish, I love the way you described your feelings here as part of nature and the fact that your dad is everywhere and in everything. Beautiful calming and peaceful thoughts.

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    • When you shared the loss of your mum on your blog it hit me too. I do believe that they are still with us. And they do leave us signs. Even if it’s just a warm, cozy feeling of security that we can’t explain. I’m sure you know what I’m talking about. I often talk to my Dad. I have my little conversations with him. Like today when we were on the beach, standing there in the water, looking out and watching the seagulls. He loved the ocean. And I know a day like today would have been totally up his sleeve.

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  6. I do know what you mean Sandra. I have moments too when suddenly she’s in my thoughts, I’ll be driving and flashbacks come to me of her. And I’ll often just break out a little conversation in Italian.,Yes, there are signs and I guess some days I’m just more open and receptive than others. Thank you. xo

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