Grief is a cruel mistress
Today marks the one year anniversary of my father’s (in-law) passing. I called him dad, and he was more important to me than any other man, on the planet, save my own husband. He loved me like a father should love a daughter, and my life will never be the same. Especially with this dad sized hole in my heart and my life.
We spent the day with family. Steve and I fashioned a grave marker of sorts from a photo we loved and a block of wood. Sounds worse than it is, and it actually, very, very beautiful, but I think the most important part of it all is that the marker was made with love, and denotes the love we feel for him. Since there is no gravestone there, yet, the funeral home marker and veterans flag didn’t seem like enough.
Not to mark his passing. Not to show the world that he left such a huge impact on so many lives. To show that in a town of 2500 or so, nearly that many people walked through the doors of the funeral home to pay their respects to him.
Grief has had her cruel hands around my throat, for the last year. She tightens them at the oddest of times. A smell, a verse to a song, a man walking through the store that resembled dad. Even a certain color shirt can take my breath away and make me pause to collect myself. A few weeks ago, Mike and I were walking through the store and we both saw him. That old farmer, wearing work pants and a t-shirt. Grey hair and distinct nose. We both paused and watched him make his way down the bread aisle, turn the corner and leave our vision. We nodded at each other, shook off the hands, and walked on.
It’s the moments like that, that are the hardest. That make me appreciate the fact that we got to experience his love and have him make his mark on our lives, forever. I know my boys will be a certain kind of man because that man, that one so special and so missed, made his mark on Steve and my boys. They know what a true man is.
I love you dad. Today, forever, always. I’m so very glad I told you that, before you left our sides. I say it to you often, during the day, and it helps me get through it all.
It helps me to survive.
I understand your grief. My mom died a bit over a year ago. it has been so difficult. worse then I imagined it could be! Peace to you!
I’m so glad you all got to have him in your lives. I love what you’ve done as a memorial, too.
I’m sorry for your loss. I agree, grief is a cruel mistress. My mom died 6 years ago and it still hurts every day and I miss her every day.