The Last Post About Dad (honest and sad)

77.

Hello my loves. Now what you are about to read may seem random, you may think 'why are you writing this now?' But please do continue to read. In my heart I feel like this is something I need to write. 

I feel that my heart has almost healed. I feel that grief has turned into understanding and life is moving in the right direction for me now, even though it's the same as always. 

So let me begin...

I don't cry now my loves, I haven't cried in months and the more I think about it during the time of my Dads passing I probably didn't cry as much as others thought I would. Gosh most of them never saw me cry at all. That isn't because I'm cold or tough, it's because crying to me is a very personal thing. It's something only your own emotions understand so to me crying is something I want to keep to myself. I don't want the fuss of those around, I want to be left to feel what I'm feeling. 

Although only a few people close know the things that were said in Dads final days I'm going to be open with you and let you in. Thinking back I allowed myself to cry in front of a total of 4 people. And believe me the amount of people who were around in those 9 days 4 people is nothing! I wanted to be a comfort to the others, I didn't want them to see me (the youngest) break. 

Every night I feared it was the last one, every evening I wanted just five minutes a lone with him so I could let him know how much I loved him and that if he wanted to go it was okay. I tried so hard to keep the tears back because he was still awake, he would have seen me sad and I didn't want him too. The last evening that he could speak and acknowledge we were there he turned to me, he was sat on his bed and I was sat in the big chair next to him and he just looked at me, nodded his head a few times and said 'I'm gonna miss you' woah! I'm holding back tears right now writing that. Those words a long with I love you and a kiss were our last words. The pain was beautiful. My heart was breaking but the memory of that moment is beautiful. 

Each night I would go home or back to my mums and cry, cry until my face hurt, then I'd compose myself and start the next day. 

I don't feel like I was a strong person at that time, I feel I was just incredibly stubborn when it came to crying or showing I was sad. I never cried when he passed, I walked into the room, and turned and said 'I'll make the phone calls' I went back in once others had left the room but still no tears. I was in a state of unsure what I was meant to do. What was I meant to say etc. I cried that evening, a strong feeling of loss definitely set in. And that's how I was for a while, I had strong moments where I just broke down, one break down was one morning while I made myself a cup of tea, I just sobbed. 

I never cried at his funeral which was in March and I never cried at the burial of his ashes which took place in August. Do I sound awful for saying I didn't cry in those moments? I guess that is how I deal with it, alone and in my own time. 

Although I haven't cried and got upset for quite some time now, that doesn't mean I haven't missed him or thought about him everyday. I've had moments of anger and jealousy but they have gone as well. 

I guess I have reached the point of acceptance. 

I think this will be my last post about my Dad now, until February anyway. I'm sorry I've been quite open in this post. 

Much love

Beth xxx