Five years later

Today marks the five year anniversary of Dad's death. So far, I am doing well, far better than what I was expecting to be. It hurts, but there are no tears, only memories. This, I know, is how he would have wanted it. This is how I wanted it to be.

I have changed much over the years. Life is much more fragile and short. Not in a doomsday kind of a way, but in a way where you appreciate every moment that you actually are alive. After you lose someone close, especially a parent, you are constantly aware that the life you live will make an impact, no matter how small, even after you're gone. And there will be far more people at your funeral than you would expect. Even people you haven't spoken to in years.

This blog will not be grim, for there is no need for it to be. The depression is gone, leaving only the good memories and the few remaining "could've been"s. The hardest part of moving on is letting go. Is finally forcing yourself to admit that they are not coming back; allowing this person to be dead in your mind. They have moved on, and eventually you will have to as well. This is both painful and liberating. And completely, entirely, necessary.

This year has been hard, but I'm not goining into that either. I don't want to, and I don't need to. Time has healed the wounds it has needed to, even as the memories remain. I knew this year would be hard, not in the extreme that it has been, but even that's okay. It allows me to put everything in perspective; and allows me to filter out just what I need and don't need in my life.

I'm not happy, but I'm used to not being happy. I've grown used to this emptiness. What I am happy for is that he no longer suffers. He is in a far better place than I am. For that, I am happy.

I need to leave now. I will be heading to the cemetery, then spend the rest of the evening at home. Tomorrow, hopefully, I will visit my grandmother. After that, I will go to work. Essentially, I will keep on living. I wish you all good luck and good health.

Take care of yourselves,
Jeremy