Thursday, July 18, 2013
A Father's Day Tribute by Lorna from Life With RA is a Pain
A guest post by Lorna from Life with RA is a Pain:
I was supposed to write this post for Father’s Day. The whole day is a blur to me. It has been barely two months since I got the call that my dad was gone.
I think I’ve been trying to keep myself busy so I don’t have to deal with it. I have been going through the grieving process since losing my mom last October. Right now I’m numb, my days are busy, so busy I did not get this post done in time. Too busy to go talk to anyone to deal with my loss. Too busy to see the doctor with my new medical issues. My life is too busy for anything involving me.
I know that sounds strange, it’s really not. I have spent the last two months solving everyone else’s problems. I barely sleep, I grab whatever there is to eat when I remember. I take my medication if I remember it.
Apparently I’m so busy I forgot what this post is supposed to be about!
Father’s day. We didn’t do much, it was an overwhelming day for me. It was a quiet night, me and my husband went out and grabbed burger’s. We went to the river and dropped a flower in. We hoped it might end up back to the place my father lived. My father spent most of my life growing up at sea. My fondest memories were of us doing things involving boats and water.
My husband didn’t make a big deal about the day, it’s not his way. He’s a lot like my dad was. He is dependable, loyal, bull headed, (I mean that in the nicest possible way.) He gets up and goes to work every day without complaint. He is of the “old school” generation that believes in earning his way through life. I admire his conviction and could not have made it through one day without him. He has literally picked me up off the floor and pulled me back together on my worst days through our years together.
He entered the role of “Father” when my son was a teenager. I’m sure you can imagine how that went! Now he plays the role of grandfather or “papa” as our grandchildren call him. We have gone through hell and back in the 14 years + we have been together and I’m sure we have more ahead but I know like my dad with my mom, we will do it together.
I will end this post with the last words from my mom “it’s your turn to dance, it’s time you lived your life for you,” and the last words from my dad, “I love you.” I love you too and I miss you both.