I just read somewhere that the way this stage of grief-the stage of searching for your loved one everywhere–ends is after a few thousand little disappointments. You go to the tree by the swimming pool and your loved one isn’t there. You pick up the phone and he isn’t on the other end. You check your e-mail and, for the last year and a half, you see again that he hasn’t sent any e-mails from Picasa, with the subject being “a picture for you.”
I see people posting years on, on Facebook, how much they miss their parents. I guess until now every bad thing in my life seemed to heal, to be reversible. For the last few years I have been really clobbered in the face by the fact that some losses and wounds are permanent. That is hard.
I have been agonizing about this computer backup. I had to remind myself that my dad is gone, and anything and everything we do going forward is only for the benefit of the living–whether it’s perfect or not hardly matters now to him.
I miss my dad. I suppose that, as life goes on, I will build enough new memories without him that the old ones will become only a small part of my life.