Pamela Posted August 31, 2004 Share Posted August 31, 2004 It's been almost two weeks since Dad died. Right after he died, I had to "take care of business", help with planning the funeral, get my kids to Texas, go through Dad's things, etc., etc. We were getting on the plane to come home that Sunday night, and my 3-year-old granddaughter started throwing up. Her symptoms were bad enough that we decided to take her to the emergency room. Within a couple of hours she was already dehydrated, running a temperature of 102, and not responsive when we talked to her -- that quickly! Turns out she had a virus and a bladder infection. Anyway, I got back in town on Monday, worked 12-hour days to catch up at work, left for a trade show on Thursday, worked long hours all weekend and finally got back late Sunday night. So now life is returning to "normal" and the grief is starting to rise to the surface. It's so odd to me that everyone around me -- family, friends, co-workers -- assume I'll just shrug this off and go on like it didn't happen. On the outside, that's what I'm doing. No one knows that I am hurting inside. Sometimes I have a smile on my face, talking business or sharing pleasantries, and I want to scream, "MY DAD DIED. IT HURTS! HOW CAN YOU EXPECT ME TO ACT LIKE NOTHING HAPPENED?!?" But I just keep smiling and taking care of business. Tomorrow is Dad's birthday. He would have been 78. I remember looking into his puppy-dog brown eyes for the last time, telling him that I love him and that I'd be back to see him on his birthday. No one here understands, but I know you guys do, so I'll tell you. My dad died. It hurts. It hurts a lot. Life goes on, and I'll go on, but I'm going on with a broken heart. Pam Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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