Ok, I'm afraid I have to take that back. I'm not really moving forward very well, after all.
I thought that having a final Interlibrary Loan deadline for two important books yesterday would motivate me to finish them over the weekend. And these are fascinating and wonderful books, highly relevant for the research project that I am very much interested in and enjoying working on. Yet, I've been having a very hard time concentrating.
So Richard M's recent comment, and similar sentiments from other friends, remind me to be patient with myself. An event like this is big in a person's life.
I have felt very close to my father after receiving the news, because of course such news gets you revisiting old memories, and doing what you can to find out more about the person and his life, such as talking at length with other family members. Having a mystery associated with it all maybe intensifies the inquiry.
So, feeling so close in this sort of way, I am startled every morning when I wake up and remember that he is gone. Initially when I wake up I am happy because I feel close. Sometimes I find myself in the middle of a stream of thought and am thinking, "I can't wait to ask him about that!" But then I remember with a jolt: "Oh, wait a minute: he died! I can't ask him any of this!" And I am stunned at the finality of it. I'm really never going to see him again.
How naive of me to think after the first intense wave of emotion that that's it: I'm ready to move on. Because my father hadn't been much in my life, really, I tried to tell myself that my sadness was just a temporary intensification of a sadness I've lived with all my life, and that I'd be able to move on with my life pretty quickly then.
Each loss is its own unique story, following its own unique path of grief. And you don't really know what it is like until you are in it. Slowly it is dawning on me that I am still just barely in the early stage of grieving.
So, yes, I will try to be patient with myself.
7 years ago