shared suckitude
Some people call it serendipity, some coincidence, some the hand of God. Whatever. In this case, I'd say there was a reason I was thinking about rubbergirl this morning. In my wanderings, I found trav28, a friend of hers. In scrolling through his entries, I found that his dad passed away in February. Unexpected, sudden, out of the blue, and he got the information by phone, as I did about my dad in December of 1998. Knowing that the only person who actually has the right to say "I know just how you feel" is one who's been there, done that, I thought I'd write a short note. In response, I got the gift of a new friend.
Unfortunately, trav28, there are others on my friends list in this club. This is one of those things I wish I didn't have in common with anyone. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. However, shared sorrow is sometimes helpful, so it's good to talk about it. Anytime. I'm guessing others in our boat feel the same. Talk anytime. I'm here.
I think it's so smart when atabei re-posts comments she's made elsewhere in her own LJ, so I'm going to add my thoughts (today) on this topic that I posted on his journal, because I'd like to keep a record too:
Ant: I know exactly how you feel. My dad died of a totally and completely unexpected heart attack in 1998. I also found out by phone -- when I was on a business trip in another city, no less.
I just wanted to tell you this totally sucks, which is what my best friend said to me when I saw her. The best possible thing by far that anyone said.
If you ever want to talk about it, feel free to contact me. Nobody else can say "I know how you feel" unless they've been through it. I'm so sorry.
Ant: It is shocking. And it will continue to be shocking. It's been just over 6 years, and I still sometimes (although not as often) reach for the phone to call him. When something big happens that you would normally call him about, it's shocking (for me, it was my first promotion after he died). It's amazing how life goes on, though.
trav28: "I keep seeing books or films that I think he would have liked then I realise that he's not around."
Ant: I've told people -- here's a small way to describe that particular aspect of losing someone: you know when a girlfriend gets married or divorced (or even when you did), and you keep referring to them by their old name? Now magnify that by about a 1000, and add grief. That's just one of the many unique aspects of losing someone. blech
Unfortunately, trav28, there are others on my friends list in this club. This is one of those things I wish I didn't have in common with anyone. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. However, shared sorrow is sometimes helpful, so it's good to talk about it. Anytime. I'm guessing others in our boat feel the same. Talk anytime. I'm here.
I think it's so smart when atabei re-posts comments she's made elsewhere in her own LJ, so I'm going to add my thoughts (today) on this topic that I posted on his journal, because I'd like to keep a record too:
Ant: I know exactly how you feel. My dad died of a totally and completely unexpected heart attack in 1998. I also found out by phone -- when I was on a business trip in another city, no less.
I just wanted to tell you this totally sucks, which is what my best friend said to me when I saw her. The best possible thing by far that anyone said.
If you ever want to talk about it, feel free to contact me. Nobody else can say "I know how you feel" unless they've been through it. I'm so sorry.
Ant: It is shocking. And it will continue to be shocking. It's been just over 6 years, and I still sometimes (although not as often) reach for the phone to call him. When something big happens that you would normally call him about, it's shocking (for me, it was my first promotion after he died). It's amazing how life goes on, though.
trav28: "I keep seeing books or films that I think he would have liked then I realise that he's not around."
Ant: I've told people -- here's a small way to describe that particular aspect of losing someone: you know when a girlfriend gets married or divorced (or even when you did), and you keep referring to them by their old name? Now magnify that by about a 1000, and add grief. That's just one of the many unique aspects of losing someone. blech