Hmmm, I'm in the TP section that I previously couldn't face...
Anyways, here are my thoughts, that I wrote down earlier, about my recent loss...
Have you ever seen a Ulysses butterfly? It’s not an ordinary butterfly, it has to be the king of butterflies. Vibrant, royal blue on black, large graceful wings, bigger and much grander than any ordinary butterfly. I’m watching one now, fluttering near me. I think its life end is drawing near though, every wing lift seems to be an exhaustive effort, it appears to be so tired, yet at the same time so strong and I wonder if this is a sign, a sign sent by my father. It seems so wrong that something so beautiful and majestic is failing, but it is and there is nothing I can do to save it, like there was nothing I could do to save him.
It’s been three weeks now since my father died, passed away, left this earthly plain. After so many years of waiting and expecting it to happen, after so much drama, after so much heartache, I am still reeling from the shock of what a non-event his ‘passing’ was. One moment he was here, the next he was gone, life snuffed out in the blink of an eye. Not just any life either, a life we fought hard for, for over a decade. Where did he go?
So I look suspiciously at random but beautiful butterflies wondering if somehow he still could be here, must be here. When the smoke alarms in the house start going off for no reason, or my glasses case mysteriously disappears and then later reappears in places we had already searched for it, when a willy-wagtail sits on the mailbox and chirrups at me noisily and boldly whilst shaking his tail feathers gamely, I want to hope, I want to believe, that somehow, someway, that there is still some way HE can affect my life. But, I don’t really believe.
He, is gone. I’ve lost him and I don’t know if I will ever, ever see him again. I want to hope, but life is going on around me, and he remains gone. I suspect I will never know the truth about whether he might still be here now, until they day I too meet my maker, and even then maybe I won’t see him, maybe there will be nothing, or even if there is something, maybe it will be like this life, where I don’t remember anything before it. It makes me sad to think that perhaps I will meet him in the next life and I won’t even know how much I loved him.
My right hand, it feels at times so…what is the word? Bereft? I just want to reach out and be able to touch him, touch his warm, hairy arm, pull his fingers apart from their locked position and wrap them around my own, feel him fighting the dementia demons that are sending jolt after jolt of tiring spasms through his body, slowly wearing him down. Feel him holding on. He was so strong, so determined, I felt he was fighting them off for us. I couldn’t have expected him to go on fighting, twelve years, well that’s remarkable determination. He was my superman, and even though he’s gone, I don’t feel as if he failed...
Anyways, here are my thoughts, that I wrote down earlier, about my recent loss...
Have you ever seen a Ulysses butterfly? It’s not an ordinary butterfly, it has to be the king of butterflies. Vibrant, royal blue on black, large graceful wings, bigger and much grander than any ordinary butterfly. I’m watching one now, fluttering near me. I think its life end is drawing near though, every wing lift seems to be an exhaustive effort, it appears to be so tired, yet at the same time so strong and I wonder if this is a sign, a sign sent by my father. It seems so wrong that something so beautiful and majestic is failing, but it is and there is nothing I can do to save it, like there was nothing I could do to save him.
It’s been three weeks now since my father died, passed away, left this earthly plain. After so many years of waiting and expecting it to happen, after so much drama, after so much heartache, I am still reeling from the shock of what a non-event his ‘passing’ was. One moment he was here, the next he was gone, life snuffed out in the blink of an eye. Not just any life either, a life we fought hard for, for over a decade. Where did he go?
So I look suspiciously at random but beautiful butterflies wondering if somehow he still could be here, must be here. When the smoke alarms in the house start going off for no reason, or my glasses case mysteriously disappears and then later reappears in places we had already searched for it, when a willy-wagtail sits on the mailbox and chirrups at me noisily and boldly whilst shaking his tail feathers gamely, I want to hope, I want to believe, that somehow, someway, that there is still some way HE can affect my life. But, I don’t really believe.
He, is gone. I’ve lost him and I don’t know if I will ever, ever see him again. I want to hope, but life is going on around me, and he remains gone. I suspect I will never know the truth about whether he might still be here now, until they day I too meet my maker, and even then maybe I won’t see him, maybe there will be nothing, or even if there is something, maybe it will be like this life, where I don’t remember anything before it. It makes me sad to think that perhaps I will meet him in the next life and I won’t even know how much I loved him.
My right hand, it feels at times so…what is the word? Bereft? I just want to reach out and be able to touch him, touch his warm, hairy arm, pull his fingers apart from their locked position and wrap them around my own, feel him fighting the dementia demons that are sending jolt after jolt of tiring spasms through his body, slowly wearing him down. Feel him holding on. He was so strong, so determined, I felt he was fighting them off for us. I couldn’t have expected him to go on fighting, twelve years, well that’s remarkable determination. He was my superman, and even though he’s gone, I don’t feel as if he failed...