Please come home…

I watched a film today, about a boy who got separated from his family. He spent years tracking down his mother when he was older. It was a lovely film, called Lion.

Why am I talking about films you ask?
It made me realise something. Something that I’m not sure many people would say out loud.  Something that people would disagree with. I wish so much that my dad was missing….That there would be hope that I might get to hug him again. That there would be hope that I would be able to talk to him and see his smiling face. There is so much finality in death.

I know that if my dad had gone missing instead and had been gone for a long time, then I might wish he had died instead so I could get closure. I think the thing is, we always wish for a different kind of tragedy, because we can’t imagine how any other scenarios could be as heartbreaking as the one we are living. We know the pain of our traumas. We can only imagine the pain of one’s we have not felt.

So yes, for me, personally, I wish my dad were missing. I wish I had hope, and a reason to keep going. Something to occupy these lonely days. A purpose and a goal.

I miss my father with every ounce of my being. Today, for the first time in a long time, the pain in my heart was so so strong, I thought I might never recover. I was in physical pain as I felt the grief all over again. It hit me like a speeding train through a tunnel, coming out from the darkness to run me over and leave me in a sobbing mess. I cried. For a really long time. I called friends, but the pain remained. It felt like gravity was heavier somehow. Every breath took effort. I couldn’t take it anymore. So I replaced the pain. I replaced it with pain that I can deal with. I could cope with the pain I inflicted upon myself. It simmered the pain in my heart and mind. As the blood trickled, my breathing slowed, my heart no longer beat out of my chest. Then I was left with that familiar feeling again. The empty space where part of my heart used to be. The part of my heart that my father took with him when he died. I can feel the loss, but finally, I can breathe again.

Dad, I love you, I miss you, I need you – H