It doesn’t seem fair that I have to come here just to see you. I stare at that square slab and remember my brother pouring your ashes into the tiny hole as we all wept. It was heart wrenching to see how small you had become, because you were the biggest man I had ever known. You were kind and gentle, loyal and proud. Your family meant everything to you. You were the life and soul of the party, and now, you aren’t.
There could never be a hole big enough to fit all of you in. So we each took a little bit of you, and we packed as much as we could into our hearts so as not to forget you. The moment we had to contain you inside ourselves, our hearts exploded from the strain. You weren’t made to be in a 2″ by 2″ hole. You weren’t made to fit inside a few beating hearts. You tore our hearts open the day you died.
You seem so far away, yet every time I look in the mirror, I see you. I can’t talk to you, not yet, not even when I visit you. It seems fake. The only way that feels somewhat real is to write to you. I dream of you reading my blog and smiling and crying along with me.
The tulips are starting to grow near your new dwelling. They made it look pretty. We know it’s not. Coming here isn’t pretty, not being able to touch you and feel you isn’t pretty. Not hearing your voice isnt pretty. It’s all so devastating. It’s all so surreal. The way you died was surreal.
There are times when I suddenly think, ‘holy crap, dad’s dead’ and it hits me like it hit me that sunny stormy Spanish day 9 months ago. As much as I try to keep it at the front of my mind, life goes on, then I’m devastated again by your loss. It gut punches me and I flashback to all those scenes that seem like a bad nightmare. Hearing the broken Spanish telling me that you would die. Waiting for the flatline sound that never came. Waiting for the last breath that you didn’t take, because you were ventilated. Ringing family to let them know the news and hearing their world crumble from thousands of miles away. Identifying your body in the most beautiful crematorium I had ever seen. Your body wasn’t yours anymore. I remember getting back to my house and completely losing my mind. I remember the smell as I burnt my skin to try to escape the emotional tidal wave raging inside of me. I can still feel that knot in my stomach that I had the day I read your eulogy. The day we said goodbye. The day we poured your ashes. The day the stone was laid. My first birthday without you, the first fathers day, your first birthday, and Christmas. Oh god, all those occasions that we should have been sharing. All those big bear hugs I should have been receiving.
I don’t want to leave you, I don’t want to let go. It kills me every time I have to leave you. I feel guilty that I can’t just be with you forever. I can’t live my life living next to your stone when I should be living it with you.
You are not a square slab, but you are. You’re still in my heart, but you aren’t here. I still need you, but you are unattainable 😔 – Violet
Shrink(ing) Violet 