Handling Grief

T.W. Mentions of hospital and the funeral. I think that's it.

"He came into my life when I was six years old and I cannot remember a time without him.

He always managed to make me feel better, no matter what happened he could make smile. Through the toughest times in my life, he made everything easier to cope with, just knowing he was always there for me. He was there through all the best times too.

He was funny and always came up with silly nicknames. He would point out when we did something funny and it became a family tradition. Like the time I was saying goodbye to him and I had switched my keys into my other hand and used my free hand to wave to him. I ended up using one finger, as though I was still holding something, to wave to him. That became the way we would say goodbye to one another after that.

One of my favourite memories of him was when he was half asleep one day and he was talking, nonsense. The only worse that stuck out were "Ouch, I stepped on a butterfly." We laughed about that often.

On one of his first visits to England, we went to London to see the sighs and to watch "The Lion King". He said it was the first time he'd seen anything like it, and my my laughed when she looked over and he had the same awestruck expression on his face that I did. Part way through the performance, I became scared of the hyenas and he kept me safe from them.

My life is better because I knew him. He made me stronger and more confident and was always a wonderful dad. I don't know how to move forward from here, but I will always carry him in my heart, and I'll try to make him proud."

That was what I meant to say at his funeral, but when I got up there, I couldn't do it. I made it most of the way through, but the last sentence killed me and I couldn't read it. It hurt too much. So I stood in front of a group of people, most I hardly knew, and just sobbed. I was trembling and unable to finish it. It wasn't right, he wasn't gone. Not yet. He was just in hospital again. There's no way that was his funeral. It didn't feel real. It still doesn't. And I'm not really able to comprehend that he's gone for good. He'll be back, I was sure of it. He was just at the hospital. It wasn't real...

It was real. And it hurt more than anything I'd ever imagined.

443 words

Take care
xx