We lost my dad two years ago, today. I don’t write about grief here very often, not because we aren’t all still suffering through it, but, because Dad would not want me to dwell on it; he would want me to face it head-on, to deal with it and to show it who’s the boss.
That’s easier on some days than on others, and, not so easy today, I’m afraid.
See, the thing about grief is, you can be having a perfectly lovely day, the sun can be shining, the birds can be singing, and you can have not a care in the world, until…a song comes on the radio, or you smell a particular brand of aftershave, or, you see a silver-haired man in khaki shorts, reading the newspaper on a bench in the mall…and, it hits you full-force and with a resounding smack; grief is a ninja, and, a vicious one at that.
The Grief Ninja can also be quite stealthy, seeping into your dreams, stealing into your subconscious, bringing you down for days at a time with no clear perspective of why, exactly, you just can’t seem to shake this sadness. I mean, life is good, right? Kids are healthy, everyone is warm and fed, what the hell is wrong? Oh….,yeah.
I mean, it’s not like you ever forget, exactly, but, maybe you have managed to reach some precarious level of détente, you and Grief, but, maybe, sometimes, that bastard doesn’t hold up his end of the deal.
Because, grief isn’t a one-and-done deal; you don’t get past it, you don’t overcome it. You learn (if you are lucky) to live with it, to share headspace, and to co-exist with it in the best way that you can manage. You know, until you don’t.
Today, I don’t.
And, that’s ok.