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A Father's Day thread
I always have a lot of people checking up on me on this day. I think it's a normal response if you know someone who lost a parent, especially if it was a traumatic death. It's easy to see that the intent is pure, and for the most part it is appreciated...
I always have a lot of people checking up on me on this day. I think it's a normal response if you know someone who lost a parent, especially if it was a traumatic death. It's easy to see that the intent is pure, and for the most part it is appreciated...
But I do find these messages draining.
I'm very open about my dad's death. It wasn't the peaceful in-his-sleep kind and the memories of that day are surreal. Some parts I can recall with absolute clarity, while others are a darkened haze.
I'm very open about my dad's death. It wasn't the peaceful in-his-sleep kind and the memories of that day are surreal. Some parts I can recall with absolute clarity, while others are a darkened haze.
It was a perfect storm of peace and violence, and it rocked my family to its core. The pain is nothing like the time-healing wound everyone tells you about. Instead, it's a damp, dark cloud that creeps into your life. Pervasive and ever-present.
I don't think it's possible to ever get over the trauma, but you do get used to the cloud's presence. Days like Father's Day are difficult though. It's a very visual reminder of loss, but also a time of reflection on the person's contribution to your life's journey.
I avoid avoid social media, because it's easier for me to focus on my own memories of my dad than it is to see other people making new memories with theirs.
I always write, and sometimes post these words. I look at pictures. I play Pearl Jam's Man of the Hour. I think. I reflect. I take stock of the cloud.
I do all of this on my own terms.
I can't do this with other people's messages, and my responses often feel performative.
I do all of this on my own terms.
I can't do this with other people's messages, and my responses often feel performative.
As I said I can see the intent, but I struggle to navigate these messages. It's difficult to hear how someone can't imagine how tough this day is when you don't have a choice in any of it, or how strong they think you are when you don't necessarily feel it.
I try to thank everyone for their words, but my responses always sound hollow to me.
I want to live this day within the context of my normality the same way everyone else does: To appreciate my dad in a way that I am able to.
Today the messages robbed me of this.
I want to live this day within the context of my normality the same way everyone else does: To appreciate my dad in a way that I am able to.
Today the messages robbed me of this.
It's not the first time I've felt this way. It actually happens quite a lot. But I've never spoken about it because up until now I've felt that the good intentions out-weighed the impact. It's tricky to find a balance between checking up on your friends and feeding their cloud.
So while it's a difficult conversation to have, a lesson I've taken from today is that we all need to take some time out to have an honest discussion with our friends about how best to keep a pulse on how we're coping
Let me end this thread with this gem
