When my grandparents died, I knew it was hard for my father. He had a very strong connection to both of them. He’d talk about them and tell us his childhood memories of them.
But I never saw him cry or exhibit any pain over their loss. I assumed that because they were elderly when they died, losing them was just a part of growing older and that people had it in them to deal with that.
I’ve learned that it’s not as easy as people make it seem to be. It doesn’t matter how old you or your parents are when they die, their passing is one of the most difficult things in the world to deal with. And it seems that it doesn’t matter what culture you come from, people tend to hold in their emotions while in front of others. People seem to think that they need to be strong for others. I know. I’ve done this.
I don’t want my own children to know I’m in pain over the loss of their Papa Reese. If they are around and Papa Reese is brought up, I’ll put on a strong face, and even muster up a little grin and talk about him lovingly. But then I may need to rush to the bathroom to let go of the tears in private.
So does it get any easier with time? Not for me. It’s like I’m on a roller coaster. I have times where the pain eases and I don’t think of him as often. Then, another phase of intensity begins again. Almost everything reminds me of my Dad. I think a lot in my head and somehow most of my thought processes end up leading me to my father even when they start out having nothing to do with him at all. And the minute the thought of him comes into my head, that’s it. It’s worse in the mornings, and evenings, coming to and going home from work. But it can happen almost anytime. When
I’m sad about something I remember my Dad because he’s the person I’d always go to for advice or consoling. When I’m happy about something I remember my Dad because he was always the first—and sometime only—person I really wanted to share my good news with. When I’m just normal I remember my Dad because it would have been nice to stop by his house for a few minutes on my way shopping to say hello or even to phone him up.
The two dreams I have had have been intense as well. You will read about these two dreams in my story. These two dreams have actually had significant meaning in my life—a premonition for something that he was warning me or praising me would happen in my future.
It must be important for our subconscious mind to convince itself that our loved ones are in a better place. This must be part of the healing process. I wake up from these dreams and sad days, missing my father terribly but feeling happy for him. It does help to think of him in Heaven.
I remember exactly one week before Dad passed, he came up to visit me and the kids. He took us to lunch, then came back to our house and helped me fix Lilly’s broken jewelry box. He told me that he had been down to the farm the day before and had had a vision of his grandma on the porch. He was in the front yard on the tractor. He looked over to the house and could see her on the front porch, waving her hands and motioning for him to come to her. Was this, too, a premonition on his part? Maybe so. But, only God knows that answer.