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Dad and Oliver - the last time we saw him.

I've been feeling really sad and missing my Dad this week and I'm not sure what's prompted it. Maybe this is normal.  What's making me the saddest is thinking of how unfair it is that he died so young and all of the things that he's missing. 

It wouldn't have been unusual not to see him for a couple of months so now that he's been gone almost four months maybe I'm finally realizing that I'm NOT going to see him again.  He's NOT there whenever I want to invite him for a visit or send him an email.  He's NOT going to comment on the pictures I post on Facebook.  EVER again.

He really would have gotten a kick out of the little character Oliver is becoming.  I bounced him on my knee doing Dad's signature "boom-chicka-boom-chicka-boom-chicka-whoops!" move the other day and Oliver laughed and squealed.  Dad would have loved to see that and do it himself.  Whenever I pick up a Dr. Seuss book to read to Oliver I think about how much Dad would have loved to read them to Oliver.

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Brayden is so tall and would have towered over Dad by about four inches now.  That would have been funny to see.  I can imagine Dad's witty comments about Brayden's height and his own lack of.  He would have been so proud of Brayden for being part of the crew on Les Miserables this past spring and if and when Brayden is in the school musical this year, Dad would have loved to see it.  He really liked theatre and was fiercely proud of his kids and grandkids.

I've said it before and I'll say it again - losing your parent is weird.  Just plain weird.  There are things that I never thought I'd feel or do or be OK with before this.  I kissed him goodbye and wanted to just hug him and stay with him as he lay there cold and empty.  I couldn't even approach the open caskets when my Grandmothers died.  I carried Dad's ashes on my lap from Hamilton to North Bay when we travelled for his funeral.  That would have freaked me out before, but it was my Dad.  I was comforted having him on my lap.  I have a small urn of his ashes that I still keep in my bedroom.  I'm not quite ready to scatter them yet, because having them there keeps him close to me.  If you had said I'd be comfortable with that 6 months ago, I would have said you're nuts.

Once in awhile one of Oliver's toys will go off all on its own.  Toys that need to be turned on, or a button pushed to make noise.  Whenever this happens (which has ONLY started happening since Dad died), I say "Hi Dad!".  I think he comes by to check in once in awhile.  Call me crazy, but this also comforts me. I really believe it to be true.  

There isn't really a "point" to this post other than getting these things out of my heart and head.  Bear with me as I continue to grieve.  It's new to me and I'm muddling my way through.  

Father's Day 2011 - Bev, Brayden, Dad and Me (with Oliver in my belly!)