One Foot in Front of the Other

Quiet these last few weeks. Reflective.

Humbled by the amount of people who came to Dad’s Mass and sent food or cards or emails or texts.

Missing my dad – missing the dad of my childhood who made me laugh. Remembering that he wasn’t a saint and he could be a miserable SOB when he wanted to be. Wishing I had visited him even more than I did when he was at the nursing home.

Thinking about so many of my life decisions I made because of his influence – now knowing they were not necessarily the directions I would have taken in my life if he had not been in it.

Remembering that he was the best father he knew how to be and forgiving him his addictions.

Watching and trying my best to help my Mom navigate this world without him. Making sure I call her every day and include her every time I go out somewhere so she can get out of that apartment that holds so many memories.

My mom has started the great clean out….prompted by my sister referenced below. She is getting rid of so many of my father’s belongings and ships and planes that he built. His many hats, walking sticks, watches, ties, etc. I asked and received his two rings that he wore his entire life until he became so thin they slipped off his fingers. I have a little corner set up in my family room with some mementos that make me smile when I glance over at them.

My sister and I have not spoken to each other since the day after the funeral when she woke me from a deep sleep and insisted that we meet to discuss ” the mixed messages” I was giving my mom concerning where she was going to live. After throwing my phone across the room, I decided it was better for me to remove her from my auto dial for a while. Now, I don’t know how to smooth the waters.

Dad is still not in his final resting place – some clerical error at the nursing home – but I think his ashes will finally be laid to rest on April 5th.

Remembering how lost I felt at the luncheon after his Mass and realizing who I was looking for. I always took care of my Dad at these functions …found him a chair, made sure his ice tea glass was full, held his arm when he was coming and going, and he wasn’t there to be taken care of this time.


Miss you, Daddy.


About JJ

“"Being Irish, he had an abiding sense of tragedy, which sustained him through temporary periods of joy.'” William Butler Yeats
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6 Responses to One Foot in Front of the Other

  1. Judy says:

    I went through a lot of your thoughts after my Daddy died. He and I had a lot of unresolved issues and it took me a while–quite awhile to forgive him. But I did and now I look back with only good thoughts. I had a step-mother involved and she got rid of most of my Daddy’s stuff BEFORE his funeral and shortly after and my sister and I were not aware she was doing it–so we have nothing of his (including the money he was suppose to have left us!) Your statement that he was the best Dad he knew how to be–was something I said about my Daddy too–and that is correct. Imperfect–stubborn–critical to us—they both just thought they were doing their best to bring up nice daughter’s. You and your sister need to get together. If you have to be the one to go the extra steps to smooth the waters–please do. You need each other and your Mom would hate to see you two angry at each other.

  2. catsoul says:

    I loved your words about your dad. You are so kind to his memory. It is tough to bridge the time of reflection and reality. Take all the time you need to do this. Love your mom and work on your sister relationship, it all takes time. Again I so enjoyed your words and tributes to your dad. Take care. =^..^=

  3. Joan says:

    Thanks, Judy. I am allowing myself to disengage from everyone and everything that brings me stress. I need to mourn my dad in my own way.

  4. Joan says:

    Thanks, Catsoul! I wanted people to know the dad I knew…..not the man they saw on the outside. After I gave the eulogy, my friend asked me to do hers when she passed….I’m hoping that wont be for a looooooong time!

  5. herstory07 says:

    “One day at a time,” isn’t just the mantra for alcoholics. Take a breath and just let the process of mourning finish it’s course. You’re in my thoughts.

  6. Your decision about your sister was the only one you could make, You’re right, one day at a time: it’s the best all the time, but especially while working your way through the process of grief.

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