Every year I’ve written something profound on missing my father, on this – the day that I always think of as the day that we lost him. 22 September was the day he vanished – was thrown into the coma from which he never woke.
Today, I can’t. I’m too heartbroken. Too tired. Today, will just be brief reminder to the world that this amazing man lived. Loved. And was – and is – loved so, so much.
You can read last year’s tribute here and a brief “things I learned from my father” post. One day – not today, I don’t think I can do it – I will write the full story for this blog. It’s a story that needs to be told.
Here, instead, is a picture of my mom and dad taken sometime in the 70s. If I have half the marriage they did, I’ll be happy.
I am deep in the grips of an “emo” of my own creation, it would seem. Somewhere I became content with having less than I deserved, and now – until I can address it – I’m stuck. Driving myself crazy.
Over the past month or so since I last updated, I have started journalling. Most of the entries are about my current relationship (if that is the right word) with J. I’m trying to find patterns, make sense – make all of this logical. I’m determined to learn from my mistakes, trying to get stuff out on paper before it drives me insane.
Of course, with everything being… Up in the air, as it is, I’m not comfortable with going into more details. But I’m sure the lack of blog posts has probably given my current mental status away.
But now, I need to face the fear of rejection. The last time I put myself out there, gave everything – with the Geologist – I got my heart positively pulverised. I gave too much, and it took me too long to recover. With J, to begin with, as a start, I began notice the proverbial sunshine through the rain.
Now rain, rain, go away.