Thursday, August 7, 2008

A Non-Traditional Experience





On July 29, 2008 my dad died. We were estranged in the years before his death and it feels as though I have grieved him so many times before that this is a much softer process to go through that could be expected.


It is difficult not grieving in the traditional sense. People don't know what to do with you when there is no impending funeral; a promise of a memorial service in a month doesn't seem to ease their emotional confusion.


It isn't easy on me, either. I keep wondering where the tears are and then I look over my shoulder and wonder what people must think of me for not mourning "more." I know full well that given the trouble my father was when he was alive that no one is judging me, but a very vivid voice keeps bringing up public appearance.


I loved my dad but he was never a person to miss, so I can't say that I miss him. I have healed the troubled relationship we had to the point where I can appreciate happy memories of him:


He loved The Grinch Who Stole Christmas, for instance. We'd watch it every year on Christmas Eve. His favorite line was, "the Grinch himself carved the roast beast!" My dad was the Grinch himself. I gave him the key chain of Max, the Grinch's dog/reindeer one year for Christmas, thinking he'd put it on his Christmas tree. When we had to close up his house two years ago when he was put in a home because of his alcohol related dementia I found the key chain on his dresser.


My dad had a tough time with traditional, too. He never came to any of my chorus performances and he only said "I love you" when he was drunk. I learned to accept that he did love me but just didn't show it in the ways I wanted him to. But there was Max, sitting right there on his dresser - a non-traditional way of letting me know that he loved me and that my love mattered enough to him to keep it close by.


Sometimes non-traditional is just fine...

4 comments:

Olivia said...

I was very touched by your post, Deb. I think it must have been wonderful to find the keychain there. I would have felt it so. I am so sorry for your father's death, even though you weren't close.

I too am estranged from my father and will probably feel similarly upon his death. I have anticipated this happening and expect to feel sorry that the death occurred, because he is a person and probably matters to some of the people in his life in some way, but I expect it to end there. Like you, my grief was experienced earlier.

When my mother died, we were in contact, but she had been physically and verbally abusive and depressed for my entire life, as well as suicidal right before her death. I didn't feel much grief. I didn't cry. I felt profound relief. I still sort of do, even 27 years later, and like you, try to focus on happy memories.

I think that grieving is very individual and that no one can tell you how much or in what ways we should or could grieve.

Blessings and condolences,

Olivia

Beverly Keaton Smith said...

This is a very touching post Deborah...I'm sorry for the losses around your dad....from the past and present...Hugs, Beverly

Leonora said...

In some way, I think the saddest thing about death is the regrets we have. We regret if we haven't said the things we wanted to say; there's no closure.
It seems to me you got as much closure as possible.

Unknown said...

greif has been a tough struggle lately.
I have similar questions when it comes to ..the process, the memorial? how does one mourn, feel, or even try to grasp the whole process.
It sounds like you did have a connection with your dad..Max! says a lot..he still had him...this says more than words can ever say..Especially for people of few words.
I love you Deb and am Grateful to your dad for having brought you into this world...*your mom too....:)