I am stil struggling after the loss of my father in March of this year. There have een so many things to deal with in the in-between then and now. Sadly, it may be years before it’s all said and done. Losing the only parent you had growing up is a deeply profound loss, no matter how difficult things may have been. Having already lost my only blood brother, I am now the last of my immediate family. I have a mother, yes, but she wasn’t there for the day-to-day, just a side player we saw maybe once a year for a few weeks. It was just my dad, my brother, and me.
I see the house we grew up in, and I see my brother playing with his Hot Wheels on the carpet. I look over and my dad is sitting at his desk, reading or writing one thing or another. When I look back, my brother fades away, and my dad’s chair is now empty. I am alone. I will never hear their laughs, and Dad will never again be able to help me look at something in another way, argue with me about anything, or just be a dad.
I am heartbroken. I had gotten used to the idea of my brother being gone, but…
I feel like a lost child. I shouldn’t, I’m well past 40, but I’d only just gotten him back and now, he’s gone forever. My brother’s loss feels so much more profound with Dad gone. I don’t have anyone who shares those memories with. I don’t have anyone to share that ‘Hey, do you remember that time when…”. They were all I had for the most important years of my life.
While he died in March, I’m still struggling. It has made it so hard to write. I’m trying, but half of my heart is missing and I have struggled with trying to put forth ideas while the pain is still so fresh. I’ll get there, but for now, it will just take a bit of time. Hopeully, by year’s end, I will have new material up. Until then, please understand that I am struggling. I lost the only parent who stuck around and took care of us, and the last of my immediate family.