Grief is not this linear process, where once you go through the stages (ha, see here), you are suddenly free and clear of feeling the negatives. It does come in waves. Mostly I've been in a high, personally and professionally, and it's been a good thing, and would have been a good thing regardless of circumstances.
But then you stumble across the most random things and then...
I was going through my phone a few days ago, and there was a video from a trip that family took last summer. Saying goodbye to my paternal grandmother, spreading ashes, saying hello (and goodbye) to some family haunts. I had recorded a video of the location that had been my favorite in my trips, and was babbling on about the scenery. At the very tail end of the video, faintly, I hear my Dad talking to my kid.
My Dad saying my kid's nickname. Saying my name too.
It all came back, and anger over things like not taking his picture there, or having a recording of his voice on purpose, self-blame and judgment for not saving voice mails, it just flooded me to this point of being frozen.
I listened to that video fifteen times in a row. Over and over, just a few short words, not even directed at me, and since it was unplanned I cut it off at that point, probably to tend to whatever was needed in the moment, and now kicking myself for not recording longer, for not even suspecting that it would be one of the last recordings (possibly the last recording) I would have of my Dad's voice.
Five seconds that caused me to crash into that place of grief. Back to anger and acceptance and back again.
I feel lucky to have found it. I feel sad that I didn't record more. I feel happy that even that little piece exists. A blessing in a way, but I wanted more.
We all wanted more more more.
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