Not Around

The pain over my dad's death still comes, and like before it is strange and unpredictable. I have cried at things that range from hearing a song to seeing apple sauce, the sharp reminder that he is gone will stab like a wound and hurt in a way words can describe. Then sometimes those same things, invoking the same memories, make me smile and happy to think about his life and the great times we had. Grief is a confusing thing.

I still feel very much that he is 'missing' and I haven't adjusted to this new role he plays as my late father (a term that is very problematic, I may rant about that at a later time.) I look for so called 'signs' to feel that he is around in some way but they don't really seem to present themselves to me. I don't even think that much of it, but the first photo I took of the picture I posted this past Sunday showed up with a glare over my dad's face. The basic coincidence of using Jason's phone that he has on automatic flash (compared to mine which I keep the flash turned off), my dad being in the top centre of the picture and the photo being under glass. However, it made me stop for a second.

Driving home this evening from dropping off Tessa, an ambulance drove past us. This is a very regular occurrence in Toronto, but for some reason it made me completely breakdown. (Jason was driving, I was in the passenger seat with tears streaming down my cheeks.) Then right before I started sobbing I looked up as we passed a store called George's Deli, a place I had never noticed before on a street that I travel up and down very frequently. I still cried for most of the way home, but noticing that made me pause for a moment and wonder.

So much of this post or this line of thinking just seems like reaching for straws, and I am almost embarrassed to share it on Always Standing. But I am looking, I am looking for him, I am looking so hard. Because I miss him so much.