Happiness

On today of all days, I cannot express how much I appreciate the quality of life that I have.  Four years ago today, my father died of colon cancer. When my dad died, I was a mess.  It hurt and I was so scared that the pain would never go away.  I was worried I would feel that anger, anxiousness and pain for the rest of my life.

Time is an amazing thing.  It truly does heal all wounds.  I do not miss my father even an ounce less today as the day he died, but I simply do not hurt like I did four years ago.  I have moved on and I have a completely separate life from the one where I was Daddy’s Girl.  Sure, I have a tough time at weddings during the Father-Bride dance and I don’t adore Father’s Day, but otherwise, life is good.

I knew I would be okay, I just had to get to okay.  But I didn’t know how my mother would handle the death of her soul mate.  She had a tough go at it for awhile but she was a fighter and never wanted to appear weak or broken.  This may have been one of the biggest faults that she had during that time, but it was her fighting mechanism and it was the way she got through the pain.  Today, she is a perfectly normal, adjusted 60 something year old.  I don’t even think people would use the word widow to describe her because she has become so independent and self-reliant (for the most part) that you wouldn’t think to use widow, which has some connotation of reliance and weakness.

I have had people tell me numerous times that I should write a book about losing a parent, because it is scary for everyone and a situation that most of us will go through during our lifetime. While it is scary, terrifying and overwhelming, it isn’t the end of the world. Your life will go on, albeit without one person, but you will still achieve the successes and happiness and failures that you would have had with or without that parent. When he died, I wasn’t sure of all these things, but I am living proof that life does continue on with all the highs and lows.

This weekend, I invited my mother to go to Paris with me for about a week at the beginning of July.  Sans Justin, just the two of us girls.  My mother has never been to Paris and visiting the Louvre has always been one of her life’s dreams. While I’m sure she would do anything to have my father back, this trip is one that I do not think would have occurred if he had not passed away for a host of unconnected reasons.  I guess things work out for her too in ways she never would have understood or expected four years ago today.

Everyone misses my dad, from my family to our close family friends, who equally adored him.  He was gregarious, intelligent and kind.  And I am still very proud to be called his daughter.

To Smile.