That’s the title of this post. Frankly, it’s the only title I could think of at the moment. In fact, nothing else really came to mind. I was talking to my mom about this yesterday, actually. I’ve been wracking my brain trying to come up with something to write about on the anniversary of his suicide, which is tomorrow, and…
I’m coming up with NOTHING. It feels like the well is going dry and there is nothing more left to say about the whole thing. At least at the moment, anyway. For the last eight years, I’ve written extensively about my father on this very blog: The strength of my mother, on bonding with my father, symbolic dreams, all the questions I’d ask him, being proud of my parents, bittersweet holidays and searching for a sign. I’ve even written an Open Letter to Suicide to try and make sense of all those emotions swirling around in my head!
So why now? Why, when such a pivotal day is right around the corner, do my words seem to fail me? I was utterly mystified and as you know, I’m always curious for answers, so I asked this very question on Facebook. And, of course, my friends came to the rescue! Here are some of their wise, salient words of wisdom for me…
*”The most important thing is that we all are reminded of your dad and the love your family shared. Just sit down and begin to write. . It will come, you know that. Sending positive vibes.”
*”Perhaps today is a day to simply and gloriously love yourself and your family. Maybe today is a day for your heart and soul to be still and know the power of love and Love. Holding you, your sister, and your mom in my heart today. And, today, I will wear a gold teardrop pendant in respect for your strength. I wore this whenever I knew you had a surgery and I wore it for your family’s grief. (The teardrop is a Sigma Lambda Sigma symbol).”
*”I think it helps people to acknowledge the pain of loss recurs and is still with us even after lots of time has passed. Society wants us to be over our loss but that’s not real. Maybe a re-post with a few comments about how you feel now. But I know whatever you put will be great.”
*”You don’t have to say anything new. Just mark the day in whatever way seems most appropriate to you, even if that just means posting that you’re going to have a quiet day of remembrance. And remember you have a lot of friends.”
What wonderful advice, don’t you think? But I do wonder: What would my father think if he knew that I couldn’t find the right words to say about him? How would that make him feel? I’ve always come back to the idea of not wanting to forget him, of wanting desperately to keep his memory alive, so maybe that’s what I’m struggling with this year? How, so many years later, I can keep him with me, even as the gap between his death and the present grows wider.
Thank you, friends, for all your kind words of love and encouragement! I’ll be celebrating my father this weekend and I hope you’re able to hug your loved ones and spend lots of time with them. As I’m always saying, “there’s not enough time” and there’s NOT!!! I wanted so much more time with my father. I think I’ll always want more time… xoxo