Dear Dad… (An open letter)

It feels like it’s been a lifetime since you left us here. And life has finally started to feel like it has some semblance of normalcy in it again. I’ve settled back into my life here in the big city and I’ve had more good days than bad for the first time in a long time. It’s been business as usual, which is how I’m sure you would want it to be.

I had a dream about you though…

In this dream I had somehow managed to figure out time travel (pretty cool, right?), and I travelled back to a time where you were still around. We were in the kitchen chatting and enjoying some libations as we always have. Your laugh still sticks with me, no matter how long it’s been. It was is still infectious. Your joy and love for life was palpable. You left to get another bottle of wine and I had a conversation with mom. I asked her if I could tell you what was going to happen to you. Maybe, just maybe I could alter how that day would end… Mom looked at me and very sternly forbade it. This is when you came back upstairs and the dream ended.

As much as I’ve been feeling that I have actually come back to a good spot in my life, this dream has been sitting with me for weeks; and I need to get this off my chest. I’ve been thinking about you a lot since I’ve had it and I am still dealing with all of these emotionss; even though the idea is that one day I won’t.

The emotion that I’m now sitting on seems to be anger and helplessness. Even if I could, the world and the universe would likely keep the outcome the same. I don’t know why. But I do know that I am mad about it. I’m not so sure that will ever change either. Is it ever supposed to?

There has been so much that’s happened in the world and in my own life these last (almost) three years and so many times all I’ve wanted to share my ideas, thoughts, concerns, tears, heartbreak and joy with you. I think that’s the part of this whole scenario that I’m most angry about. That you won’t get to share any of my milestones in the future. If I ever get married, move, travel, explore, adventure, you won’t be there. We had plans to explore Tallinn and to find all of the great craft beers and places. I was so looking forward to that. But you weren’t there. And that still sticks with me. For a long time I felt abandoned, for lack of a better word. I have to wonder if you would be proud of me and what I’m doing now. If you would support what I’m doing and what my hobbies are. I wonder, would I have even started this blog if you were around still? Would I have needed this as a pseudo coping mechanism for other parts of my life?

This is a part of grief that everyone says will get easier. But I have to wonder when it will. Or if it ever actually does. Maybe people just say that in an effort to make you feel better. Maybe this is something that I will carry with me throughout the rest of my life. I know it gets easier to live my life as normal, and I know that I am getting better at managing this but I think that when someone says “It gets easier with time”, it’s bullshit.

I suppose that’s all I need to say about it right now.

Dad, you’ll always be loved and remembered down here. Even if we are mad about it sometimes.

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