In The Spaces

I have been neglecting pretty much all of my social media as of late. Work has kept me more busy than I would like. I've been wanting to get back to the rest of my work, the processes that I have been in and making progress on, but actual job has been demanding more of me.

But I need to get back to this work too. It's important, and necessary.

I do find that I'm sharing more stories about my Dad these days. The more I have been able to talk about him with new people, people who... well, didn't know me when my Dad was around... I'm finding that I apparently had the best Dad on the planet. It creates this dichotomy where I miss him even more for being gone, but also appreciate the time even more because I do have this entire boatload of good memories to pull from.

There are these brief moments in my life where I have the space to actually think about my Dad in a conscious way. There are small, but they exist, and I still make room for them. I wish there was more ritual though. There's something missing in my closure (?) and I've yet to define that.

I've been thinking to go to a grief retreat in September, but on the flipside I'm not sure if I need to dwell, if that makes any sense. Still pondering that one.

My moments are brief these days. I'm doing what I can in the spaces in between.

Time Is Relative

The more I process, and watch others around me process, talk to people who have been through the same, it all comes down to the same thing... time. Time is required to not feel the loss so acutely. Time is what makes things bearable again. Time is what gives us distance from the intense emotions, what let's the bad fade from memory and the good stay even when the moments are gone.

Time.

We pass the time in the hopes that eventually it will do it's job, but it only goes so fast, good or bad. A day is a day, even if it feels like a moment. Einstein explained it as such: 

“Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute, and it seems like an hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute. That's relativity.”

Loss feels like the hot stove. Sitting in it feels like torturous moments. But eventually even these moments will pass. I think we get concerned that over time, we will forget. But I don't think that's possible as long as we keep memories alive.

It sounds trite to say "Time heals all wounds". It doesn't. But it does give us the space to process and find a new path. I have to believe that it does let us become functional again.

Distraction Helps... Kinda

My everyday life has been a bit hectic lately, and I can't really say that's a bad thing. I'm one of those people that will have a weekend with no plans and by Friday night, I've got at least two things scheduled. I am social, I want to be out in the world, and I appreciate my friends and family immensely.

This weekend is a little different in that all of my activities seem to be crammed into Saturday. This is by design, I know I need some time to myself to prep myself for the upcoming week, get my house in order, all that jazz. But there is a tiny part of me that is dreading Sunday because when I have swaths of free time, I somehow come back to thinking about my Dad and how I don't get to share events with him in the same way anymore.

I also find that I want to somehow paint my grief, but then when I do I end up painting over it because I don't necessarily want or need that lingering on my walls. This insane process of getting through loss does, apparently, get more manageable over time, and I'm not sure I want to have some permanent reminder (except this blog) of how much this royally sucks.

Distraction. I need to both use it to my advantage and recognize that if I'm constantly distracting myself, I'm not letting myself heal as I need to.