1. Lovely words for your Dad. You are always able to look at the positive side of things. I think this will help you get through the heavier side of the grief. I'm here if you want to talk.

  2. Anonymous

    Very beautiful. I am so sorry for your loss. I lost my father in April 2000. I still miss him very much. They are perhaps what define us most–our profound losses and how we live on. I am not really like my father, and yet I feel his influence on my whole outlook every day, especially in certain situations. He was extraordinarily talented–multi-talented. A public servant in his careers, he was also very sensitive and private. Anyway, I miss him. Take care of yourself. Your grief will change, but you are right–it will abide. I think sometimes we do not realize how greatly we are loved by someone until that person is gone. My father taught me how to live and how to love. I had a pretty unbelievable father.

  3. Wow, thanks for these words. You're right. We can't really feel the force of someone's love till they're gone. But thankfully that lives on. Thanks so much for reading.

  4. I remember the happiness for him bit. It's true, isn't it? No one should have to endure a life that's not really a life for long, should they? Watching my parents pass made me think long and hard about a long life. I only want it if it's a real one. If it's full of sickness and hardship at the end, I'll be happy to exit early . . .

  5. So true. I had both my grandmothers live till their mid-90's and both were ready to go. I agree its possible to live too long, especially with the medical profession fighting off death. Sometimes drifting off is the most merciful solution.

  6. My dad died a couple of months ago and I have nothing to remember him fondly for. He was self absorbed and distant – so I envy you your memories and strangely I envy you for your grief because that’s a sign of a long, loving relationship. You were blessed to have him for your dad and I bet he’s smiling down on you from heaven x

    • Laurie Stone

      Leanne, Thanks so much and I’m sorry the relationship with your Dad wasn’t better. Its a strange lottery that gets played out when we get our parents. I hope you made up for it with your Mom. Thanks so much for reading.

    • Laurie Stone

      Haralee, He was so ready to go, there was no place but peace left. Even though I was relieved he was finally free, I see how grief seeps in slowly. Over a year later, I’m still having to face the fact I’ll never see him again. It always brings me up short. Thanks for reading.

    • Laurie Stone

      Thank you, Roxanne. My Dad was the first big loss in my life so I didn’t know what to expect. I find I don’t think of him all the time like I did when he first passed, but when I do, the pain goes deeper. It becomes more real. Thanks so much for reading.

  7. My dad died in Sept 2015 and my mom in Feb 2015. I was a lot like you at first. I was relieved in a lot of ways and numb. It is only a year later that I am missing them both so much. I mean I missed them before, but I had spent an intense 7 months caring for both of them and was physically, emotionally and spiritually exhausted. I’m so sorry – I know you will miss him.

    • Laurie Stone

      Cathy, I completely get it. My mother was exhausted as the caretaker and in some ways, she was released from that. But I know a year later, its sinking in more deeply. Her best friend is gone. I’m so sorry about the loss of both your parents. That must be so hard. I can’t imagine.

  8. I’m so sorry for your loss. My great-aunt had Parkinsons, and I watched my great-uncle put himself into the nursing home with her because he couldn’t care for her and he couldn’t bear to be away. It’s such a hard disease in the end that I understand your happiness for him because it is a final release.

    • Laurie Stone

      Jenn, Wow, what an act of love. That could be a movie. What a sweet man your great-uncle was to do that. Parkinson’s is such a cruel disease. I’m sorry for your great aunt’s suffering. Thank you for reading.

  9. Oh, this is so, so perfect!
    I, too watched my Dad go home (was it really two years ago?!) recently. I was ecstatic for him. He had nursed my Swedish mother through the last stages of Parkinson’s as well and was terrified of becoming dependent. When he died of a heart attack, still taking care of his own needs, all I felt was gratitude and happiness. He got to go! He was with Mom! I still feel that. Oh, there are times when I miss him. Then I write about him.
    Maybe it helps that he was six hours away and I can still pretend he is there in his apartment if I just make the trip. But still, all I feel is joy!

    • Laurie Stone

      Diane, Feeling joy is a wonderful way to grieve. If it was a good relationship, and it sounds like yours was, then what else is left to do? Wow, Parkinson’s disease and a Swedish parent? We have a lot in common!

    • Laurie Stone

      Karen, Your Dad’s out of his suffering, but I’m sure you miss the man he was. I agree, feelings get very complex in these situations.

  10. Beautifully said. I lost my mother in 2013. I was so privileged to be with her when she took her last breath. I miss her, but she had dementia and yet told me and my brother, I HAVE TO GO. I hope there is an afterlife. I pray there is.

    • Laurie Stone

      Beth, Thanks for your kind words. I hope there is an afterlife too, but who knows? I’m sorry about your Mom, but it sounds like she was ready to go. Like with my Dad, I found comfort in that.

  11. So interesting, lovely really. I too was surprised at the shape of my grief when my father passed. I think it’s important that we talk publicly about all the different ways grief can be experienced. Take care.

    • Laurie Stone

      Lisa, Thanks so much. Yes, my father’s life had become impossible. Death was a release. I still miss him everyday, but at least he’s free.

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