In Remembrance - Day 2

Give sorrow words. The grief that does not speak whispers the o'er-fraught
heart, and bids it break. - William Shakespeare

I don't know how to discuss my dad in my real life... I don't know how to explain that I loved him with all of my heart, and hated him with a violence few people can imagine me ever experiencing.

I say this is my first Christmas without him... you think of pleasant memories of Christmases gone by. I remember the warm fuzzy memories of Christmas mornings... the thrill of looking in the stocking and opening up the packages... eating Christmas breakfast together...

But by afternoon or evening, he always changed. His temper would erupt, he'd yell, scream, throw things... he'd threaten suicide, or murder...

My memories of him are all double-sided... the good husband and father, who ran as fast as he could from the pain he couldn't deal with... and the violent abuser, who took out the pain out on all around him.

Today James and I applied for our marriage licence... and for the first time, I wrote the word "deceased" next to my father's name. I feel so much anger at his death sometimes... he should have been here with me! I'm only 27... I'm starting my adult life, renovating a house, embarking on an exciting (but scary) adventure called "marriage"... and I need my Daddy.

I don't understand why he had to pass away when he did. He was getting SO much better, physically AND emotionally. He'd been taking anti-depressants, and was mellowing out quite a bit! We could talk for longer and longer periods of time, without our conversations leading into suicide or ramblings about his guilt from the past. I learned so much about him in the last couple of years... we talked about books, history, life... I'd finally stopped dreading the prospect of a future with him in it (will he ruin my wedding? Should he be allowed around my children?) and as he began to allow himself to heal, our relationship began to heal too.

And now he's gone... and I'm left here, to go on without him.