Today is my dad’s birthday. He would have been 93. I’m giving myself some TLC today and allowing myself to simply and fully feel what I feel.
I’m giving myself permission to sink into my feelings completely, without apology. Grief. Anger. Confusion. Disappointment. Fear. Whatever. If tears come, let them come—buckets full, if they must. No holding back. No judgment. Love and acceptance only. Perhaps I should be this way with myself every day.
I believe I spotted a blue butterfly as I was leaving my father’s grave site. It passed by so quickly, I wasn't certain. How curious, if it was one.
I am grateful to have been able to visit my father’s grave site. It’s nearly an hour drive and I’ve yet no transportation of my own. I had been wanting to make at least one visit this summer. Today was that day.
The stone looks perfect, as headstone’s go. The inscription was exactly as my family had requested. However, it was a bit disheartening to see his among a vast sea of headstones of other fallen soldiers. Don’t know why, or what difference it would make, but I kind of wanted his to stand out, to be bigger, to be given VIP status. He was certainly a VIP to me and to my family.
Truth? I'd rather he not be there at all, or more precisely, I'd rather he were still in his physical body. I know that being spirit we exist beyond the grave, and my dad's presence continues to be strongly felt, yet I'd rather he had lived out his 100 years in this physical realm as he'd always talked about in joy and health. I would rather be able to hold his hand, see his smiling face, or hear him say "hey, baby," a term of endearment reserved for his daughters and occasionally our mom. As much as I despise the phrase and its overuse, this is a case of "it is what it is."
Today, I’m just letting myself be and feel. Feel and be.
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