As I gaze out of the window on my flight home, I reflect on this journey I’ve taken over the past few weeks and of blogs I’ve shared with you. I have been honest in my feelings. Raw, at times, I know. But I’m probably one of the most real people you will ever meet.
My siblings and I are now without parents. I don’t care how old you are…the pain is real. And I am feeling lost. My parents passed way too young at ages 74 and 79.
The last few weeks have revealed some unpleasantries. I’ve shared some but not all. Families are not perfect. We are human. Living with regret though is horrible so we need to make everyday count for good.
I got married in 1980 and then two years later my family moved eleven hours away. I’ve been separated from them all these years. The trips to their places or mine were few and far between. Life sometimes gets in the way of life. The busyness of our own lives kept us apart. And we always think we are going to have more opportunity. You know…when this or that happens. But this or that doesn’t happen. I regret the memories that were never made and the talks that were never had.
This week as I listened to my sister talk about memories she had with my dad, my heart would sink to the bottom of the sea. It’s not that I’m angry that she had these beautiful memories. It’s that I didn’t have the relationship with him like my siblings did…because of distance and our very different personalities. And that makes me so unbelievably sad. This week I often felt I was on the outside looking in as I overheard stories about what Dad accomplished in his life. Almost like an intruder, or an eavesdropper listening in on private conversation. It wasn’t a good feeling at all. Things I should have known being his daughter, but didn’t have a clue. I suppose it’s not any one person’s fault. We all played a part in the disconnection between me and them.
I cannot get any time back with Dad so I must make peace somehow and press forward. I will never know what it is like to have a close relationship with him like my brother and sister. They will never know what it’s like to feel left out either. The key is to not let this destroy what we have but rather build off of it. Knowing my brother and sister, I believe we can do that. It is my hope anyway.
So now this long journey ends. There is a time and place for everything. Seasons come and go although the memories still linger. I will continue to write about my father periodically. I’m discovering more about him and still processing all that has transpired.
Thank you for following me. Thank you for the kindest messages of encouragement and of sympathy during the passing of my dad. ♥️