12 years already since my father died. 12. Yesterday and yet still today. Autumn is in the air, the colours are ripe oranges, and blushing reds, and the screaming bright ochres of certain trees, which stand out in gardens and parks. I cried for the first time yesterday as I was scouring the sink after breakfast. A friend's father has been given weeks to live and I try to understand my own feelings in the face of her feelings.
I never had the time to grieve. Too many decisions to be made, too much responsibility placed on my shoulders suddenly.
And this morning, as Arvo Pärt's 'Festina Lente' burst from the radio, I cried again.
The scar never heals, the pain never ebbs away.
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4 messages:
Hugs. x
I'm sorry hon. Wishing you lots of strength.
One of my friends just lost her father and it has brought up all the feelings I suppressed last year when my mother died. I'm with you...
Thanks all! Weather has cleared up and I'm feeling all spry and happy again (until the funeral that I have to attend on Friday).
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