I started to realize over the weekend that my thoughts about my Dad have changed direction. I read the status of my cousin-in-law as she remarked on her one year anniversary. Something clicked in my brain. At the wedding of my cousin and his bride, it was the last family function that my Dad would ever attend. It would be a month before his death. From now until the anniversary date of his death, everything seems to focus around "this was the last time..."
My Mom is feeling the same way. It's a new kind of sadness. A different kind of sad. I was putting together a scrapbook page of my son (the one who is 7) on his 4th birthday. (Yes, I am THAT behind...and more because I skip around and work on what I am in the mood for.) I found a picture of him and my Dad. My heart broke again. After this, Grandpa would only celebrate two more of Peanut's birthdays. I didn't mention that in the scrapbook.
I miss him so much. This next month may be the hardest yet. I can hardly believe a year has almost passed. I still think I will see him standing on the deck or working in the garage. Sometimes, I have walked into his wood shop (now called The Studio) and smelled the sawdust and woodsy smells and it felt as if I had walked onto sacred ground.
This happens to my kids too. One day, Mom and I were sitting on the deck, enjoying a glass of water. Peanut came out and was chipper and chatty and then all of a sudden while he stood at the rail and looked out over the yard, his whole face just changed and tears welled up. He senses it too. It's hard enough for me to grieve my father. It is even harder to walk my children through it. But I do. I acknowledge what he is feeling and tell him it is alright to feel what he feels.
We are getting through it but it is hard. I know I will always miss him. But perhaps in time, it won't sting as much.
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