Letters To My Dad: H is for Hurt #AprilA2Z #AtoZChallenge

On January 22, 2022, my Dad died. My theme, “Letters to my Dad” is based on random thoughts about him and the aftermath of not having him around anymore.

Hey Dad,

I know that grief hurts but never in my wildest dreams did I think that grief could like “hurt hurt“.

Like physically hurt.

When I think about how you aren’t around anymore, I get this horribly tight knot in my chest that I just can’t shake. And when that happens, all I want to do is crawl into my bed until it passes but I can’t because there is always “something else” that needs to get done.

At other times…

Well, you know how when it’s winter on one of those -30 degrees Celsius days when you try not to take too many deep breaths otherwise your lungs will feel tingly and on fire? That’s the pain I feel at the base of my throat when anything reminds me of you.

But the worst kind of physical hurt I feel is whenever photos of you from your last months pop up in my cell’s photo highlights. I literally feel naseaous, like someone has punched me in the gut. In those photos, your deline was so obvious yet I guess I didn’t see it as much because I was with you every day.

Then again, maybe it was a good thing that I didn’t notice.

I only learned the word “cachectic” a few weeks ago when I was sorting through some of your hospital reports and now I wish that I could unlearn it…

Whenever I look at your pre-cancer photos, I feel warmth that takes all that physical pain away. I can’t help but smile to myself and even laugh.

So why can’t I spend more time looking at the “before” photos to take the pain away?

Why do I keep lingering on the “after” photos that cause me the physical pain?

What is wrong with me?

Loving you always,

M

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