I could never accept it..
Following my last post, I had long conversation with my boyfriend and it led me
to want to share something else...
I said that the loss of my father is still like a dark cloud over my head, that Iīm not even aware of most of the time.
He said the loss of his mother is blue-green. I asked him why and he said
it were her favourite colors. In those colore, he said, is sadness about her loss, but also happiness of all the happy memories they shared.
I found this enlightening.
I never really get to think of happy memories with my dad, even though there are many.
I feel like they are blocked by his gruesome death and suffering leading to it and I canīt get around to the good memories.
My boyfriend said that people say that the loved ones would want their family to be happy after their death and think of happy times shared.
I said, I donīt feel that.
I donīt really feel that my father would have wanted us to "be happy"
and keep on living after his death. This sounds weird, but itīs what I feel.
I have this awfull grotesque picture in my mind when I think of "accepting" his death and moving on.
My father is being lowered into his grave, screaming, and holding his hands out to me. Iīm just standing my the graveīs side, all calm, with a soft smile on my face saying "itīs ok, itīs alright."
I could just never do that, naturally. Yet itīs what I feel I would do if I came to say "itīs ok" "I accept this".
I can never accept this because I donīt feel like he would have wanted us to.
I remember him being very sick and saying something like "Yes Iīm just going to die. Thatīs what you want so you can get rid of me."
Or something like that. It could have been different, but thatīs what I basically understood.
He was just very desperate, very afraid of dieing and fighting with every fibre of his being to stay alive. So how can I ever accept it and move on?
I donīt know if thatīs even possible.
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