The First Big Loss

My dad died 8 years ago today... 8 years. I can honestly say that no one life event changed me more than this one. My entire existence as a human being completely transformed starting with the beginning of a terminal diagnosis, through a long 2-year fight, and ultimately his very painful death. I witnessed things I didn't know were possible, things that would devastate a stranger, let alone a daughter, sibling, mother....things I couldn't imagine existed, and I have a wild imagination. Living that experience changed how I view everything in life 8 years on; it was a long, difficult journey to get here. The cliches were true: the anger, denial, and all-encompassing grief, and no matter how hard you try to out run working through it, you will not win. I crashed in spectacular fashion about 4 years after his passing and it has taken the past 4 years to put myself together again. A new me, the next episode of me that now has a new understanding of loss and death. Seeking out explanations until I found something that made sense to me, something that I could live with.

So here we are, years on, and this day doesn't break me open anymore. I miss him, and I wish it could have been different, but I am able to reflect on all the things that I admired about him and try to honor that. He wasn't perfect, but he was my dad, and I loved him for who he was. We talk often; I talk about him often. I feel him with me, and this whole journey has pushed and shoved me to where I am right now, which, of course, was the reason.