…… that’s all.
No, that’s not true.
Here’s what I want to say:
Damn it to hell!
That’s the worst I can think of without using the F word.
Just damn it all to hell.
What, you may ask, caused this kind of reaction?
Well, I’ll tell you.
And so painful and loving and amazing and lonely.
And …… something so ordinary.
I miss him.
Oh my God, I miss him.
I want him to be here.
I’m tired of being here without him.
No matter where I am ……
No matter what city I live in ……
No matter how busy I keep myself ……
He should be here.
Daughter #3 is planning her wedding.
Which will be here in less than 5 months.
I am so thrilled and excited and happy for her.
And for him.
Jim should be here.
He should be here to laugh with me about the angst and stress and wonderfulness of the plans they are making.
He should be here to agree with me that we couldn’t be more happy with the new addition of Son #4.
He should be here to help me help her.
Damn it all to hell.
Thank you for writing so honestly. I have experienced the the same feelings to same situation. There is no way around it …. it’s a difficult time. I wish you strength and much, much more.
I have been following your posts for a long time…almost 4 years. My husband died in a car accident 4 years in November. We were in the process of planning my oldest daughter’s wedding. Bob was her ‘dad he didn’t have to be’ and was going to proudly walk her down the aisle. We had bought her wedding dress in October and he wouldn’t look at it at all; said he ‘would see it on the day I walk you down the aisle’. I feel your pain; and the joy and the angst, anger and tears that go along with it. And I am truly sorry. We did a few memorable things that helped us celebrate the day while honouring him but in a quiet way. It turned out to be an absolutely beautiful day. We all missed him so much but he was with us in every way! Hugs!!
My heart hurts for you. 😩💔
Love, hugs and my heart hurts for you. So sorry for your pain.
Janine, I think I replied about your daughter’s wedding before, so please forgive me if I repeat myself… Our second daughter was married after Don died, and I know exactly how you feel. Because I felt the exact same way. Damn it all for him not being there to do all the things Dad’s do. Talk to her beloved; talk to her; walk her down the aisle; share my happiness about our daughter finding a good man who adores her, who she loves. Sarah wanted to do something at the wedding to acknowledge having had such a great dad in her life; we made an extra boutonnière and put on the chair next to mine. She didn’t want a photo of him; she didn’t want to make it a big deal, and that was perfect; just something we understood. No one else had to know it was even there. The ceremony was outside, in my mom and dad’s back yard, on their 68th anniversary (it just worked out that way). During the ceremony, and large white butterfly flew over them, circled twice and flew away. I don’t think anyone else noticed, but I did. A lot of people say a butterfly is one way our loved ones come to us; I don’t know, but I know I saw that butterfly. Your daughter and her love will have a beautiful wedding; it will be bittersweet, I know – but she’ll make a beautiful bride (had any bride not been beautiful?), and it will be a day you’ll remember forever. And Jim will be there… watching.