It seems so much has happened in the two months since my father passed away. Grief still saturates my atmosphere and I think of my father several times a day. Most of the time, I still picture him at the end of his life, which is painful. However, it is a relief to not be waiting for “that call” anymore. I realize that for almost the entire year of 2011 I lived in a state of anxiety, fearing my father’s death long before it actually happened.
In the past two months, good things have started to happen. I started this blog project, which is being well-received by the community and has been great therapy for me. I also am now a storyteller on Cowbird, where I will be writing visual-focused stories about my dad and other areas of my life. I know Dad would be proud, as he always encouraged my interest in writing. I think in a different life Dad would have been a writer as well, penning books about down-on-their-luck boxers with Irish names, and maybe a novel or two about the IRA, which he claimed to be a member of at one time.
My mom is still struggling to find her way alone in this world. She still talks to my dad every day, telling him that she misses him and loves him.
There are still regrets about the last few years that I am working my way through, but I know I cannot change the past, I can only take what I’ve learned and apply it to the present and future. A loss of a loved one changes you forever, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.