This world works in mysterious ways sometimes. My post yesterday, the letter to my father: https://breakingsarah.wordpress.com/2015/11/09/a-letter-to-my-deceased-father/, I have tried to write it for the last couple weeks but the words wouldn’t come or the emotion was too strong. I finally told myself that it was okay to wait and let it happen when the time feels right.
Yesterday morning, I sat down at the keyboard and the words just flowed, the striking images so vivid in my mind, my thoughts and feelings so clear. The loss of a loved one is always difficult to talk about but having to remove that loved one from life support adds a slightly deeper pain that is hard to explain to someone who has never been through it. And then to have lost that person when the relationship was strained, a pain yet even deeper. It was nice to finally be able to write about and release some of that pain. I have posted before about the details of that day but writing directly to my father was different, more personal. I think that after finally letting go of all the family drama, I am now finally able to deal with my fathers’ death.
Last night, I got on Facebook and something amazing happened, perhaps even mystical. You know how Facebook has the “Memories” feature that shows your posts and posts made on your wall from that days’ date on previous years? Well, one of mine stood out so strongly that it’s as if my dad was beside me telling me everything was going to be okay. This memory was from 2009, the year when the family drama began. It was November, a couple months after my sister, Sandy, started ignoring me and when I started noticing changes in my mothers’ attitude towards me. It was the month before the first Christmas family gathering I would choose not to attend, and as it turned out, the last Christmas my father would be alive and I missed it. (Hmm, that thought just dawned on me actually). This was the post my father made on my Facebook wall on November 9, 2009:
“Morning, Sarah. Just wanted you to know how much your mom and I love you. Have a great day.”
I sat there last night when that came up and just starred at the screen of my cell phone. What were the chances? What were the chances that the one day I could finally write that letter to my father was the same day that memory would find me? It was as if my father somehow gave me the strength to finally write to him on the day he knew he would be able to be there for me, to comfort me, to give me peace. That precious moment last night will forever be stamped into my mind and memory. It could have been mere coincidence but I like to think it was something more.