I have the worst night sleep, a bang in the middle of the night and dream loops about spirits and I feel spirits and I sleep lightly.
I wake up sad, I tell Ben and he hugs me and I go for my morning walk.
We spend the day organising builders and plumbers, and I try and organise an estate lawyer.
Ben's painting falls down in his room.
I go to work and it's mundane and it's okay, it emphasises old feelings of not being myself or fulfilling my higher role in life in this role.
I come home and Ben is still at the movies, I put away the dishes and I see Dad's empty kombucha bottles that I would have normally put aside to give back to him. I do really loud sobs in the kitchen and tell him I miss him.
The cats come over to me and give me comfort. I make tikka masala. Cooking is helpful.
Ben comes home and we watch lunatics and I tell him about my sadness and I talk to Emaya about my sadness and my complex emotional landscape.
I almost feel that if everything I love or know to be of comfort was removed, I would stoically be able to handle it. Perhaps the worse thing has happened and now, I exist on a plain of non-attachment. I feel disconnected. I'm just feeling what I'm feeling.
I re-read the passages marked on Dad's bible, that lay next to his dead body.
and they make me cry.
His voice comes into my ear and he reminds me that I'm his favourite daughter. Something he always said to me.
/I'll be sharing a series of diary entries two weeks around my Dad's death
End Note: It's actually weird to know where to stop these entries, they literally just keep going. There is no neat bow to wrap this all up because it's just my life. The complexity of closing down Dad's business continued and became more difficult, a court case got thrown into the mix and Ben and I continued to navigate the house thing. At some point I looked back and I could see this 3 month bubble. It was such a strange 3 months after Dad died, a strange place to exist in. That bubble lifted. It was gradual though. Sometimes I miss it - it felt very connected to some other place.
I wake up sad, I tell Ben and he hugs me and I go for my morning walk.
We spend the day organising builders and plumbers, and I try and organise an estate lawyer.
Ben's painting falls down in his room.
I go to work and it's mundane and it's okay, it emphasises old feelings of not being myself or fulfilling my higher role in life in this role.
I come home and Ben is still at the movies, I put away the dishes and I see Dad's empty kombucha bottles that I would have normally put aside to give back to him. I do really loud sobs in the kitchen and tell him I miss him.
The cats come over to me and give me comfort. I make tikka masala. Cooking is helpful.
Ben comes home and we watch lunatics and I tell him about my sadness and I talk to Emaya about my sadness and my complex emotional landscape.
I almost feel that if everything I love or know to be of comfort was removed, I would stoically be able to handle it. Perhaps the worse thing has happened and now, I exist on a plain of non-attachment. I feel disconnected. I'm just feeling what I'm feeling.
I re-read the passages marked on Dad's bible, that lay next to his dead body.
and they make me cry.
His voice comes into my ear and he reminds me that I'm his favourite daughter. Something he always said to me.
/I'll be sharing a series of diary entries two weeks around my Dad's death
End Note: It's actually weird to know where to stop these entries, they literally just keep going. There is no neat bow to wrap this all up because it's just my life. The complexity of closing down Dad's business continued and became more difficult, a court case got thrown into the mix and Ben and I continued to navigate the house thing. At some point I looked back and I could see this 3 month bubble. It was such a strange 3 months after Dad died, a strange place to exist in. That bubble lifted. It was gradual though. Sometimes I miss it - it felt very connected to some other place.
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