Today was my Dad’s service. Funeral.
It is not blazing any new territory to say that the dissonance is severe. Most people, even those who truly loved him, will pick up their lives tomorrow and move forward. I will too, for that matter. But every impulse I have goes along the lines of “Wait! We left my Dad behind. In the past. We need to go get him.”
My kids will never know a Grandpa. The losses keep layering over themselves. I will never get another big bouquet of Valentine’s Day roses from him. I didn’t get a chance to ask him how to handle a stressful work situation. I can’t mail him anymore books.
I can’t do this. Except that I have to.
jaysaint 
Posted by your_new_cuckoo on July 9, 2010 at 7:21 am
I am so, so sorry you lost your Dad. I’m terrified of what it must be like. I am thinking of you and praying for you to find strength and peace.
Posted by your_new_cuckoo on July 9, 2010 at 7:21 am
I am so, so sorry you lost your Dad. I’m terrified of what it must be like. I am thinking of you and praying for you to find strength and peace.
Posted by jaysaint on July 11, 2010 at 7:06 pm
Thank you, it’s much appreciated and it does help.
Posted by unclebill35 on July 9, 2010 at 10:23 am
I am very sorry for the loss you are feeling, it is tough, to say the least. I wish you the best in a sad situation.
Posted by unclebill35 on July 9, 2010 at 10:23 am
I am very sorry for the loss you are feeling, it is tough, to say the least. I wish you the best in a sad situation.
Posted by jaysaint on July 11, 2010 at 7:07 pm
Thank you. I wish no one had to know what this is like.
Posted by unclebill35 on July 11, 2010 at 10:54 pm
That is a very nice thing to say.
Posted by Anonymous on July 9, 2010 at 1:12 pm
Jillian, I’m so sorry for your loss.
And you think you’re not blazing any new territory, but it’s new territory for you. And as you tell it, in the vividness of the moment, it reminds me. It feels new again.
“We need to go get him.” Yes, that’s exactly how it is.
Courage, strength, and comfort to you and your family.
Posted by Anonymous on July 9, 2010 at 1:12 pm
Jillian, I’m so sorry for your loss.
And you think you’re not blazing any new territory, but it’s new territory for you. And as you tell it, in the vividness of the moment, it reminds me. It feels new again.
“We need to go get him.” Yes, that’s exactly how it is.
Courage, strength, and comfort to you and your family.
Posted by jaysaint on July 11, 2010 at 7:08 pm
How kind of you to come by. I’ve thought of you often lately and what you wrote when your dad passed.
Posted by bramey on July 9, 2010 at 1:48 pm
One foot in front of the other, and breathe. It’s all we can do. I can tell you the feeling will mellow, but it won’t ever go away. He’ll always be with you.
Posted by bramey on July 9, 2010 at 1:48 pm
One foot in front of the other, and breathe. It’s all we can do. I can tell you the feeling will mellow, but it won’t ever go away. He’ll always be with you.
Posted by jaysaint on July 11, 2010 at 7:18 pm
Great advice. Sometimes I flat stop and tell myself to just put it down for a while.
Posted by satogaeru on July 10, 2010 at 7:24 pm
I am so sorry for your loss.
Posted by satogaeru on July 10, 2010 at 7:24 pm
I am so sorry for your loss.
Posted by jaysaint on July 11, 2010 at 7:18 pm
Thank you.
Posted by jaysaint on July 11, 2010 at 7:06 pm
Thank you, it’s much appreciated and it does help.
Posted by jaysaint on July 11, 2010 at 7:07 pm
Thank you. I wish no one had to know what this is like.
Posted by jaysaint on July 11, 2010 at 7:08 pm
How kind of you to come by. I’ve thought of you often lately and what you wrote when your dad passed.
Posted by jaysaint on July 11, 2010 at 7:18 pm
Great advice. Sometimes I flat stop and tell myself to just put it down for a while.
Posted by jaysaint on July 11, 2010 at 7:18 pm
Thank you.
Posted by unclebill35 on July 11, 2010 at 10:54 pm
That is a very nice thing to say.
Posted by steakums on July 12, 2010 at 6:39 pm
Hugs and love to you and your family. That’s all I have to offer, sweetie.
Posted by steakums on July 12, 2010 at 6:39 pm
Hugs and love to you and your family. That’s all I have to offer, sweetie.
Posted by Anonymous on July 15, 2010 at 9:06 pm
I found your blog because I’ve been reading mamapundit. I lost my dad on June 19 and I have been struggling. I spend a lot of my time reading blogs of people who are in mourning also. Maybe it’s not the healthiest thing to do but it brings me a small amount of comfort.
The time between his death and the mass/burial were filled with busy work. Then the burial occurred, the family and friends all left town and I’ve been struggling with the reality that he’s no longer here since then.
My son will never know his grandpa either and that breaks my heart. For you and I, I hope it gets easier.
Posted by Anonymous on July 15, 2010 at 9:06 pm
I found your blog because I’ve been reading mamapundit. I lost my dad on June 19 and I have been struggling. I spend a lot of my time reading blogs of people who are in mourning also. Maybe it’s not the healthiest thing to do but it brings me a small amount of comfort.
The time between his death and the mass/burial were filled with busy work. Then the burial occurred, the family and friends all left town and I’ve been struggling with the reality that he’s no longer here since then.
My son will never know his grandpa either and that breaks my heart. For you and I, I hope it gets easier.
Posted by jaysaint on July 20, 2010 at 1:45 am
I’m so sorry for your loss.
I was just putting my son to bed and thinking how what I really want is a long time to be quiet and try to make peace with the loss of my dad. But life is pretty much demanding my immediate return. Tough love from the universe maybe.
I think it’s good to know that we’re not alone, even though we wouldn’t wish for anyone to join us in grief.
Posted by Anonymous on July 16, 2010 at 5:53 pm
I lost my dad three years ago and your feelings so echo my own. Just want you to know you’re not alone. Other people will go to the grocery store or take showers and behave as though it’s a perfectly normal day, but we know our dads aren’t here, and nothing will ever be the same.
Posted by Anonymous on July 16, 2010 at 5:53 pm
I lost my dad three years ago and your feelings so echo my own. Just want you to know you’re not alone. Other people will go to the grocery store or take showers and behave as though it’s a perfectly normal day, but we know our dads aren’t here, and nothing will ever be the same.
Posted by jaysaint on July 20, 2010 at 1:48 am
Thank you. I am constantly reminded of my dad, of things he would have found funny or things he would have wanted to know. I can’t believe I’m the only one who sees the huge gap left in the world.
I wish both our dads could be here.
Posted by Anonymous on July 20, 2010 at 3:32 am
you aren’t the only one. You’re pointing to that hole and I am seeing it. I am.
Posted by Anonymous on July 16, 2010 at 7:11 pm
Hi – I found your site from Mama Pundit and think it was meant to be as we buried my precious dad on July 10. He was 84, completely self-made – a retired attorney who had grown up in a very tough area of Brooklyn and fought in WW II. He had been in good health until a stroke two years ago. The past two years have been filled with his health ups and downs but he was incredibly tough and always came back from whatever setback had occurred. He was on kidney dialysis and his wife, my stepmother, decided the time had come to stop his treatment. I disagreed as he still knew us all, could enjoy a good meal, and had a spark of life in his eyes that still was bright. She had his power of attorney and proceeded to stop the dialysis and he died one week later. I feel like I failed him in some intrinsic way because I couldn’t stop her. I’m sorry to share my pain here when yours is so great but I know how you feel when you say you can’t do this – i can’t believe I’m living in a world where he no longer exists.
Posted by Anonymous on July 16, 2010 at 7:11 pm
Hi – I found your site from Mama Pundit and think it was meant to be as we buried my precious dad on July 10. He was 84, completely self-made – a retired attorney who had grown up in a very tough area of Brooklyn and fought in WW II. He had been in good health until a stroke two years ago. The past two years have been filled with his health ups and downs but he was incredibly tough and always came back from whatever setback had occurred. He was on kidney dialysis and his wife, my stepmother, decided the time had come to stop his treatment. I disagreed as he still knew us all, could enjoy a good meal, and had a spark of life in his eyes that still was bright. She had his power of attorney and proceeded to stop the dialysis and he died one week later. I feel like I failed him in some intrinsic way because I couldn’t stop her. I’m sorry to share my pain here when yours is so great but I know how you feel when you say you can’t do this – i can’t believe I’m living in a world where he no longer exists.
Posted by jaysaint on July 20, 2010 at 1:53 am
That’s so painful, I’m so sorry. I too feel like I failed my dad. I keep thinking that he never would have let this happen to me. I know that’s not reasonable. And more importantly I know my dad would be exasperated at the thought.
You are clearly deeply connected to your dad. He sounds like an amazing man.
Posted by jaysaint on July 20, 2010 at 1:45 am
I’m so sorry for your loss.
I was just putting my son to bed and thinking how what I really want is a long time to be quiet and try to make peace with the loss of my dad. But life is pretty much demanding my immediate return. Tough love from the universe maybe.
I think it’s good to know that we’re not alone, even though we wouldn’t wish for anyone to join us in grief.
Posted by jaysaint on July 20, 2010 at 1:48 am
Thank you. I am constantly reminded of my dad, of things he would have found funny or things he would have wanted to know. I can’t believe I’m the only one who sees the huge gap left in the world.
I wish both our dads could be here.
Posted by jaysaint on July 20, 2010 at 1:53 am
That’s so painful, I’m so sorry. I too feel like I failed my dad. I keep thinking that he never would have let this happen to me. I know that’s not reasonable. And more importantly I know my dad would be exasperated at the thought.
You are clearly deeply connected to your dad. He sounds like an amazing man.
Posted by Anonymous on July 20, 2010 at 3:32 am
you aren’t the only one. You’re pointing to that hole and I am seeing it. I am.