Last updated on October 13, 2021
Today is my Dad’s birthday.
It’s still a birthday even though he’s been gone for the last 14.
The rawness of grief doesn’t heal like a scar, only to be re-opened if you scratch at it. It’s more like a delicate pile of fallen leaves, protecting the wound at its root. The pain is always in reach.
The breeze of a smile that echoes the one you lost; an occasion with a gap his shape – these are things that rustle those leaves, uncovering the swells of grief. You choke on its familiar lump, you shudder beneath its weight, and feel the raw might of its roar. But you know the storm will pass. The leaves will settle again.
Winds will always blow. Leaves will rustle. But this tree will stand its ground.
For my Dad, who planted the seeds of wanderlust within me.
Beautiful, brutal… brutiful. I honor your grief and your father’s life today. So much love xxx
Thank you Sarah x
I feel for you. Both my parents are dead. You said your Dad died years ago. The pain is always there, and that feeling won’t go away. Do you also experience that others don’t really understand that you still grieve for him?
Thank you Dorothée. Sometimes people don’t understand, sometimes they do. I find it depends on lots of things, especially whether or they have lost someone close themselves. Sorry about your parents too.
Your dad – my brother – is missed every day.
It feels wrong to praise the loveliness of your heartfelt tribute on such a sad subject, but nevertheless this was a wonderful, moving bit of writing to read. I’ve no doubt your dad would be proud of all you’ve accomplished in the 14 years he’s been gone. And since he lives on in your memory, he’ll never really be gone, even if he is missed.
Thank you Steph x
Beautiful! sorry about your loss
Thank you.