♥ ♥ ♥ Sometimes I wonder if you think about me as much as I think about you



Death and religion

It has been 7 months and 20 days since my dad died.

People keep saying I'm "doing really good" but the truth is I cry pretty much every day. I talked to my dad all the time. I'd call him while driving home from work, stuck in traffic. We'd chit chat. About the business, about boating season. It'd be June and he would already be planning his trip to Maui which wasn't until February. Worrying about who would be available to drive him to the airport. I miss those calls. His number is still stored in favourites within my phone. I think it always will be.

Since my dad passed away I'm struggling with the concept of religion. I guess I've considered myself somewhat agnostic over the past few years. I don't believe in God, but there has to be something more, doesn't there?

I understand people's draw to religion more than ever. It isn't the support from the community, or having someone to pray to... that my dad is alright in heaven. It is the idea that my dad is... well, that he isn't any longer.

Without the idea of religion and the afterlife, my dad really ceases to exist. And I struggle with that. Tonight I had my first softball practice. I wanted to phone him afterwards because he always loved that I played softball into adulthood. But I couldn't call him. And the thought passed through my mind "I wonder if he saw that". But without an afterlife, he doesn't see, he doesn't think, he doesn't feel or long for anything because he isn't anything. And that thought is devastating.

My dad loved sunsets. I can remember him dragging me down to the beach to watch them as a kid. I never thought much about them. Now I can't stand them. I cry whenever I see one. I like to think that somehow we're sharing the same view. Not to say he's looking down from some ethereal fluffy cloud, but that we're sharing a moment where we are witnessing something of equal beauty.

As the sun set tonight, I found myself thinking about him, pondering the thought of us sharing a bright pink sky. And then the tears start again, the knowledge that we aren't sharing a view. That while we will always be connected, it is through my memories, through my love and my feelings of loss.

I keep waiting for the waves to ease, but they keep coming and I'm trying to weather the storm. He taught me how to batten down the hatches and take the waves over the bow... but right now I feel like the ship is taking on water and all I have is a bucket with holes and no handles to hold onto. I desperately want something to believe in, if only to take away this feeling of pain.

8:18 p.m. - 2017-04-11


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