I lost my dad a year and a half ago, and sometimes the grief is still so acute. This is a journal entry from a few weeks ago, but I think that it captures the rawness of the pain better than I can analytically. Don't worry, I'm fine, but don't forget that you have no idea the pain that is inside of someone. Give your loved ones a hug tonight.
I miss my dad so much that it feels like I’m walking around without my skin. I would give anything to talk to him one more time. Not even a heart to heart, just to hear his voice one more time. Just to have another person to call when I have a bad day. Just to have one more hug. I wouldn’t resent him for his alcoholism or for all of the times that he made me feel inferior. I just want my dad. Grief is so hard. It would be so much easier to just numb out. It would be so much easier to not feel. But here I am, bawling crying on a plane because I feel so much. And even though it would be simpler to not be going through this, I know it’s the right thing. I know it’s how I’ll heal. I have so much regret for putting up walls to protect myself and addressing my dads sickness clinically because I couldn’t handle it. It was easier to put on the persona of another nurse than it was to let myself be a kid in need. I forgive myself for not being there when he died. I forgive him for his illness. I forgive him for all of the times he chose alcohol or someone else instead of me. I don’t need to try so hard anymore. I don’t need to strive for perfection in order to be seen. I don’t need to be someone or accomplish anything. I just need to be me. My presence is plenty. I can be loved and I can be me without trying so hard. I can let myself off of the hook.
