Letting Go.
It has been 10 months, 3 weeks, and 1 day. On November 21st, we will be celebrating 1 year since dad's passing. One year, and still I get a little sad when I hear the song "Landslide", a little nostalgic when remembering how we used to sing "Don't Know Why" (Norah Jones) whenever he drove me to rehearsal, and laugh like crazy when I hear things like "Play That Funky Music White Boy". Seeing you in my passenger seat or in a parking lot, pointing your finger and shaking it, maybe doing some disco moves or moving your head like a bird. There are simple things like this that while a reminder, make me smile simultaneously. They fight every thing that says I should be selfish and want him back. Because, I don't. This is why:
I know a lot has happened in all of our lives, but I think my emotions toward it have stayed the same. Despite realizing even more than I already did how much of my life/actions are because of him, most days I still feel glad that he isn't with us anymore. As Narinda says often: ah, it is, as it should be. I don't think my immediate family knows how to be or what to do still. When I go home it's as if they're in limbo, waiting for him to come home from the hospital again. We lost him at 9:36pm, and it's as if they think he is asleep and lost in his dreams. Maybe we all are. Wondering and dreaming of how it would be if he was still here. Whereas I always come to the conclusion that it would be strange, my immediate family is still stuck in that place. This is the only thing that holds me back from complete acceptance. Because it is not something that I cannot make better, if not through my words. I am hoping that the memorial service gives that to me, a little of their acceptance.
Mom wants me to write a poem for the memorial service, and I hope my words can bring them smiles and comfort. Maybe it will also be a chance for them to understand where I am at and why I don't get as teary as they do when dad is mentioned. Maybe they will think I'm unfeeling or disconnected from them. But, my hope is that no matter what they will all get the togetherness they need from hearing me (to them I am a representative of him) say the words I could not say then. Words which, I know they were all thinking at the time but also could not say: I regret, nothing. I live with you in mind and so, I keep on laughing and giving. Most of all I love you no less so, I keep going and leave you, as to remember you in the best light you could have wanted for me. I regret nothing, because you chose to leave on purpose. You knew, and I knew, it was time for the next test of loyalty, of living, of letting go. Nothing is black and white, it is all grey, I will be seeing you, soon. So go, and be happy. And thank you.
This is not what I'm going to read, just brainstorming. Trying to figure out how I want to say it. But this is my impromptu celebration, my affirmation of inner-strength and acceptance. Nothing, not even you, can take you away from me. So nice try, you old fart. :o)
I know a lot has happened in all of our lives, but I think my emotions toward it have stayed the same. Despite realizing even more than I already did how much of my life/actions are because of him, most days I still feel glad that he isn't with us anymore. As Narinda says often: ah, it is, as it should be. I don't think my immediate family knows how to be or what to do still. When I go home it's as if they're in limbo, waiting for him to come home from the hospital again. We lost him at 9:36pm, and it's as if they think he is asleep and lost in his dreams. Maybe we all are. Wondering and dreaming of how it would be if he was still here. Whereas I always come to the conclusion that it would be strange, my immediate family is still stuck in that place. This is the only thing that holds me back from complete acceptance. Because it is not something that I cannot make better, if not through my words. I am hoping that the memorial service gives that to me, a little of their acceptance.
Mom wants me to write a poem for the memorial service, and I hope my words can bring them smiles and comfort. Maybe it will also be a chance for them to understand where I am at and why I don't get as teary as they do when dad is mentioned. Maybe they will think I'm unfeeling or disconnected from them. But, my hope is that no matter what they will all get the togetherness they need from hearing me (to them I am a representative of him) say the words I could not say then. Words which, I know they were all thinking at the time but also could not say: I regret, nothing. I live with you in mind and so, I keep on laughing and giving. Most of all I love you no less so, I keep going and leave you, as to remember you in the best light you could have wanted for me. I regret nothing, because you chose to leave on purpose. You knew, and I knew, it was time for the next test of loyalty, of living, of letting go. Nothing is black and white, it is all grey, I will be seeing you, soon. So go, and be happy. And thank you.
This is not what I'm going to read, just brainstorming. Trying to figure out how I want to say it. But this is my impromptu celebration, my affirmation of inner-strength and acceptance. Nothing, not even you, can take you away from me. So nice try, you old fart. :o)