Maybe On Day Five

As is quite normal for me at the moment, I woke up with my father on my mind.  Since his funeral some three weeks ago now, I’ve had a dream about him that I woke from crying, moments of clarity about his passing and how it is better for him now he is no longer in pain, and numerous bouts of watery eyes that I have consciously prevented from turning into tears.

I have taken the past two days before the weekend off from work because I thought the tears were close.  But again, events in my life have stopped me from shedding the load of tears that I feel I am almost drowning in.  Nothing of significance has happened just little things.  Like I thought I was going to be home by myself for 2 days; as it turned out, it was only one.  I was too busy preparing to get my cry on for day two to cry on day one, that I forgot. The odds of day 2 not happening…… well, they were pretty high.  Needless to say, when my man came home on day 2 of this 3 day trip, I didn’t get to cry on, on my day two either.

Then the weekend came (let’s call these day three and four) and I thought great, here is my chance today to do what I didn’t get to do yesterday or the day before; Cry. Today, I was saying goodbye to my stepmother.  She was leaving to live with her daughter in Queensland, about to start the rest of her life now as Dad had told her he wanted her to do.  I was happy that she was going to spend the time with her daughter, but I knew that her leaving was going to hurt.  Even though our relationship had been tried and tested over the past 25 years, I knew she loved my Dad and my Dad loved her and I did too.  So to me, her leaving felt a little like I was losing Dad again and it was because of this, it left me feeling really sad that I was going to be saying goodbye to her.  On the other hand though, this did have me thinking, great, I will now be able to let loose with the tears once she was on the plane.  Finally I was going to be able to cry.

As it turns out, there was a mix up with the flight and we were at the airport one day early.  Although there was room on the flight that we had arrived for, it wasn’t possible to get my stepmother on that plane because of the “paperwork”.  I felt like saying to the airline attendants, “For god sake, just write her name on the piece of paper with all the passengers’ names on it and let her get on the plane.”  My stepmother was visibly distraught, almost tormented that she wasn’t on the plane, that my own ‘woe is me’ was buried again and I went into action mode.  I had to help sort out the problem, placate my stepmother and get her booked onto the next available flight for that day.  I did, she left but………. I was so worried about her state of mind, that I didn’t get the chance to get my cry on, so……. I didn’t cry on day three either.

That brings me to today; day four and my final day of my time away from work.  I haven’t slept well.  I have been awake for more hours than I have been asleep.  Sitting at the computer, watching heart-warming videos about rescue dogs, old moments in movies that have previously be known to bring me to tears, reading the saddest part in my favorite book, all in the hope that I could cry, finally!  Nothing! Zip! Nudder! Niente!  OMG not even a skerrick of water, in fact, my eyes are feeling quite dry from sitting in front of the computer for the past seven hours.  I even watched a TV show specifically about the relationship between a father and his daughter, hoping that would help.  Still, nothing!

The only thing I didn’t do as it turns out, was sit with my eyes shut, in totally silence, and remember him. I didn’t think to think of all the things that won’t happen anymore.  I didn’t even think to allow myself to get really, really, sad.   As it turns out, all I had to do was remind myself that Dad wasn’t here anymore.  He wouldn’t be on the other end of the phone telling me about his day with as many reminders of his being a pensioner, or what did I do today that wasn’t done his way.  No longer were the words of his wisdom going to be able to guide me through my life, no longer is the sound of his voice going to make me want to cry with longing for I have missed him so much, for I will never hear it again.  No longer will I look at my inbox and see an email from Tom, who was seldom in, hence his email tomsseldomin.  I can’t hear his voice inside my head, I can’t picture him smiling at something that amuses him and I can’t hold his aged spotted hand in mine.  I can’t feel his kiss on my cheek, or feel his arms around me. 

Now that I have started though, I can’t keep crying.  You see, my man is now awake and I have to start my day.  I am going to have to dry my tears that have only just started to fall, literally.  I am going to have to wait for another day to remember and honor my father.  I don’t think I will get to get my cry on, on day four either.  At least day four has shown me what to do to get to get my cry on.  All I need to do is remember.

I know Dad wouldn’t want me to cry, I know he would only want to see a smile on my face and laughter in my eyes and I promise you Dad (as I turn my head toward the sky and send the silent promise to him), I am trying.  But right now, I miss him and this makes me feel sad.  This makes me want to curl into a ball and let it all out.  And I will.  There will be a day that I will let the tears fall, that I will feel the immense pain of his passing, and I will at the end of all of that, dry my tears and stand tall for him.  That is my promise to him.

Maybe on day five?