my Dad

My darling Dad, Not a moment goes by that I dont think of him. Gone from this world nearly 3 years. He was an amazing man. Strong, witty, handsome, caring and loving. I was his princess. Cancer took him in the end. From being a strong man he became a wiltered flower all in the space of 8 months. Even though we are a large family I was the one who would take him to his doctors appointments, the one who would get the first lot of bad news, the first who would have to tell my mum and hope she didnt die from the shock and the first to explain in to him in a way that wouldnt frighten him. Considering the situation I think I held up pretty good. Amazing how strong we are when we need to be. Unfortunately once he left, I fell into a deep depression. I think my mind and body had had enough. When he left us in a way I was relieved that he was in no more pain. The last thing he said to me was that he wasnt afraid to die and all he worried about was that he would leave us and we would be sad. Until the last breath he was telling me that this was a journey and not to cry for too long. We must all go through it, he would say. and for us all to be strong. My darling darling dad. Life for me will never be the same. I miss you so much...

Hi, Roz,
My father died in 2004. I barely knew him, as my parents split up right after I was born, and went their separate ways. But I still feel the sense of loss. Having had him in your life both compounds the pain of loss, and sweetens the poignancy of the good memories.
Are you still very depressed and in a state of exhaustion, or are you on the road to recovery?

Thanks for your reply Puma. I am better although I do have terrible days. Im also looking after my mother who is elderly and is very very demanding. That is another story. I actually have a post in another section about her and her abusive ways. As time goes by it hurts a little less but I keep going over in my head the terrible things that he went through. I was on anti-depressents and they seemed to have worked somewhat. Im off them now and feel that I can cope without them. THank you ..

hi Roz,

my dad died 11-10-2006. Seems like yesterday, and yet it seems like a thousand years since I spoke to him.
Puma has pulled me through several stages of grief. She is a wonderful human with a leaders qualities, I love her dearly.

She has filled my head and heart with rational thinking and unconditional love.

Roz I am sorry you lost your dad 3 yrs ago. I know those are just words, but they are from my heart.

Peace and Health to you.

Thank you so much. I am so grateful for the support. Im so glad I came across this forum. I feel that I have come into a room full of friends. xx

Hi, Roz,
Yes, this is a unique site. Many other forum sites are full of fighty bities, but this one is kind and thoughtful. It is kind of the Mayberry of cyberspace, or for those more sophisticated, the Cheers.(Old American TV shows)

"Cheers - Sometimes you gotta go where everybody knows your name. And they're always glad you came" I always loved it when the show's theme song said that.

I previously wrote about my dad who died a few years ago. I hope no one minds if I repost what I wrote about him. Like you, I loved him and, in the last years of his life, was able to express it to him. I understand your feelings well.


Today is Father's Day, and I want to write a bit about my father. This will be the first time I've written about him. I've written volumes about my mother (mostly in my mind) but today I wish to write a little about a man I never focused much on.

The focus was always on my mother, as she wished.
Dramatic. Flamboyant. Gorgeous. Charismatic. Highly intelligent. Dangerous. Enticing. Self-destructive and taking no prisoners.

My father was in the background. A calm to her storm. A listener to me, to her talking to me without listening. A one-beer man to her varied addictions. A professional to her ultra-professional. A handsome man to her drop-dead physical beauty. A humorous man to her often false laughter. A mildly religious man to her abject denial of and vicious anger towards any religion that would seek to make claims on her. A man who dressed well because she knew how to dress very well, and would dress him so that he reflected well on her. A man who enjoyed a party but did not have to 'be' the party. An intelligent man but not as quick-witted as she. A man who brought home a dog to me whom I could love, to her bringing home a peacock, a monkey, and a trained skunk which would make parties more amusing. A man who did the dishes when we had a maid, vs. her answer to my question of "What's for dinner?" "Reservations." A man who tried to love her in spite of her continual open affairs and progressing addictions of all kinds, thinking that love would win out. A man who tried to love me, and I felt it. A man who touched me warmly to my memory of never having been kissed or hugged by her. She was my mother; he was my daddy.

My father was also a man who was in over his head. He did not know how to deal with her - no one did. He tried. I saw him try for a long time. But she was too much for him, too much for us all. So, he buried himself in work and took long, long business trips. And left me with her. And she focused on me. And, without him as buffer, I was nearly destroyed by her.

Much later, I took my dad into my home to live for many of the last years of his life. He'd been diagnosed with a slowly progressive disease that would take years but would still rob him of abilities, as he slowly edged towards dementia and then death. And we talked. Openly. Honestly. Heart to heart. And I didn't have to ask for the apology... he just gave it, willingly. With tears. That gave me the courage to tell him that I had been angry with him for a long time that he had left me with her, and allowed me to become her target. He listened, and he acknowledged that it was so. He did not know the depths of what she'd done to me, and he cried upon hearing. It was so good to tell him the truth. He told me truth from before I was born, and the circumstances of my birth, and truth from his life with her, and truth from my childhood... and it went a long way towards countering the falsehoods that I'd lived with my whole life from her... that I was to blame, that I was the 'bad one', that I was a liar, that it wasn't that way, that I made up stories and was 'so dramatic', that I deserved what I got and more...

I saw that we were both her victims. I let go of my anger towards my dad. And I was able to love him, not because I needed him as I had in childhood, but because I understood him and loved him for who he was and what we'd been through. He'd failed me. He had. And I could love him anyway.

He died a few years ago now. And I miss him. I genuinely miss him.

Happy Father's Day, Dad.

Alexandra

I know what you feel, four months ago I lost my Brother... He was just 25 and He was a great men...I'm in pain now but every day I just repeat myself that He wouldn't me to be sad...

Lifesong and Paulag,

Lifesong, that was a beautiful letter

I mourn to myself now about my dad. My husband is tired of it, yet he has both of his parents. No one can understand unless they have been through it.

I finally went to visit my dad's grave, I knew my dad was not there, just his body and it helped some.
Now I know that he lives on in my memories of him, and really I needed his advice the other day.
I think of him at least ten's a day. I lost one of my favorite people,
so I can understand the emptiness that goes along with losing a loved one.

Paulag,
I remember hurting so bad, when my dad died (suddenly).
I had chest pains for about 6 months and severe migraines.
I know you are missing your brother, and for him to be so young.
This is the one true question I have for the "creator",
Why take the young, the GOOD people and leave the nasty's behind. The answer came a back as: Because it is so.

I wish both of you peace.
red