Some have said…

Writing this blog is not easy, it takes me into the deepest depths of my soul and in some cases forces me to look grief in the face. I would like to put it out there that grief is different and unique to whomever has the misfortune of having to walk this road. The person that you lost holds a very special place in your heart and no amount of words of encouragement, words of possible understanding or support can close that wound. It is a wound that leaves a lifelong scar, if you were a warrior you might wear such a scar as a badge of honour. To be honest I still am not sure as to how I should wear this scar, I really don’t feel like a warrior. I feel broken and shattered at best.

Recently my eldest has been expressing a lot more than usual that she really misses Mommy. This is to be expected as she is currently going through many of those important life phases. Just having turned 18, currently finishing up with school and preparing to go to university. Added to this the excitement of soon being able to get her drivers licence. These are important and wonderful times in anyone’s life, but not being able to share these with your mother, your best friend, is heart breaking. It is not only heart breaking for her but it is extremely difficult for me, being Dad I want to fix things, I want to provide a solution, I want to offer guidance and shine a light onto the path forward. However I can not be the one thing she most needs and craves right now, her Mom. As we chat and I do my best to listen to her, I took the opportunity to explain my challenge, that is you can not fit a square peg into a round hole. I try to be the best I can for her but seeing her pain and anguish only seem to open up my wounds all over again.

This situation, challenge, pit stop, only served to remind me of some of the foolish things people have said to me. Such comments as, “welcome to the club”, I certainly never signed up for any club and if such a club existed I wouldn’t want any part of it. Some have even made comments of comparison, such as, “at least you have the girls with you”. I hope that from my above reflection it would become blatantly clear how silly and inconsiderate it is to compare grief. It is each of our own journey, and that also applies in my relationship with my daughters. As much as I want to be Mr Fixit I need to allow them the space to explore and evaluate their own grief response. They must just know that I will always be there to provide the necessary hug.