Today marks six months since my dad died. He died. It sounds so final. Most people use passed away because it sounds so much kinder for the one who’s hurting. But I really only use it when I want to be kind to myself – when I want to push off the harsh reality that my dad is actually gone – or when I mention his death to somebody but don’t want to draw their pity. Passed away seems less final. And passed is a better word; after all, my dad has passed on into eternity.
So do I have a big revelation or reflection at this six month mark? Not as I would have hoped.
Just more of the same. Sadness, tears, memories, anger, regrets (maybe – at least wishing I would’ve said or done things differently), realizations, missing him, and yes, still moments of shock. Sometimes the tears start because of him, other times they continue on because of him.