My son turned six months this weekend.
I feel waves of grief again about my dad. Soon it’ll be two years since he fell ill. Snow brings it all back. I wish one day snow would flatten to being just…snow again. Or else I wish I could move to Hawaii and escape it. I’m never sure whether I want to cling desperately to the memories or flee headlong from them.
Two days ago my mom was telling me how much my dad would have loved my son…how he never would have put him down. I’ve tried my best not to board that train of thoughts; not to think about how my dad just missed his grandson and barely saw his granddaughter. But when my mom said that…well, I’ve been crying on and off ever since.
Tonight was the first night in a long night I felt like it was all unbearable, like I didn’t really know how I could live with this pain forever.
I’d been working all weekend on something for my husband, having no time for myself, and thought how upset my dad would have been if he saw that after studying so long I had basically become a trailing spouse. I felt very alone. I feel very alone.
I am starting to feel like it was a long time ago I had a father.
I also feel like the only person my age without a father, though I know it isn’t true. I see the photos on Facebook of people with their dads–I see my father-in-law in my living room, and I wonder why it had to be MY dad who died.
I’ve read a thousand stories like this one, because everybody loses their dad one day, if they are lucky and outlive him. And they are all the same–like my story–words, words, words. We feel feelings, but write words, and it all gets flattened.
So it goes.
Well, very soon my son will be half a year old. It is hard to let go of the baby stage this time since I know he will be my last. I don’t really want to start solids, I don’t really want to put him down, etc. Sometimes I long for a third but I know it’s not about being able to handle a third, but more about not wanting to let go of this stage of life; not wanting to get old and have health problems, etc.
My in-laws came to visit over Christmas break. My FIL is a nice person and all, but he has six grandkids and is a very traditional Indian man, who doesn’t really get involved with his kids or grandkids beyond providing for them financially. I couldn’t help thinking how much more awesome a grandfather my dad would have been. Not only does he live nearby, instead of 10k miles away, but he always said how much he would want to take my (future) kids to the playground…was looking forward to them holding his finger and walking. I bet he would have gotten on the floor with my kids and given them horsie rides and whatnot…taken them out and played ball. Whereas my FIL spent weeks here and he was…nice, but he doesn’t like kids, and doesn’t get involved with them, and it wasn’t the same.
And so how come someone who doesn’t like kids gets to play with six grandkids, while my dad didn’t even get to know one? I just don’t understand the universe sometimes. I guess this is why people turn to ideas like karma and previous lives…hoping that somehow there is an overall arc of justice, even if we can’t see it within our own limited lifetimes.
I miss my dad. But the shape of the missing is changing. It’s becoming a smooth hole, not a crater, I guess.
My son will turn six months soon. I feel the weight of the universe on my shoulders, I am 36.5 and no longer feel young, but if you ask me where my youth went, I’m not sure. I feel like I went from a girl to middle-aged mom in the space of two or three years. I feel cheated. I don’t feel like *me*. I am tired.