It’s hard to put into words the emotions I feel every time July 11th rolls around. 8 years ago my Father passed away and 8 years later I still have not fully processed it. I emphasize with anybody who has lost a parent, especially when it seems entirely too soon and unfair. My heart aches when I see other’s posts commemorating a loved one that has died or how they wished they could have grown up having their parent; their best friend. And then I think about my situation more. I’ve realized that I have been mourning the loss of my Dad for more than 8 years.
It’s a delicate thing to talk about people who are gone. While I am quick to admit I am sad and I am much less to inclined to confess that I am also mad. Would I offend somebody by acknowledging that my Dad was not there for me for most of my life? Is it ok to still be upset with somebody who is dead? But perhaps its too late to worry about those types of things…after all I did a photo series of self portraits of my Dad’s ashes (yes you read that right… on my face). You’d think being offensive would be the least of my concerns.
Other days I wonder if I’m facing certain problems in my life because my Dad faced them. Is he to blame? Let me clarify, that I know he is NOT and that I am in complete control of my life’s trajectory. But I’d be lying if I said the thought hasn’t cross my head from time to time.
Whether you’ve lost a parent due to death, because their not a part of your life or both… it is not something you ever really come to terms with and its hella complicated to navigate. I will say this though, the one positive to loosing my Dad was I feel like I understand him more in life than I did in death. I just wish I had that chance while he was still alive.