Ebb and flow

We're back from burying my fathers ashes.  Instead of the heart wrenching sobs I was filled with silent tears and the realization that this is now so final.  Once again we were surrounded by those that loved him too.  (I'm not angry with these people.  They lived too far away to visit my dad in the hospital.) I had lots of hugs from those that I barely know.  Yet standing on the hill that will be my fathers final resting place I felt alone.    People talked of how he would love this place, near his father's grave, out in the country.  I didn't feel that way.  I felt like it was a cold place, lonely and silent.  Far from the bustling world.   A far cry from the kind of guy my dad was in life.

When my grandmother died I felt terrible pain.  My fathers death is different.  The pain is more intense.  I feel changed.  I can't quite put my finger on it but I am no longer the OGO I was before.  I often feel lost, I have trouble making decisions and I'm having trouble remembering things.  Thoughts of him invade my mind all day and all night.   I'm told it's part of my grief.  I hope it is because if it isn't I'm losing my mind.

Now we move on to divvying up my dad's worldly goods.  It makes me so uncomfortable.  He was so much more than the sum of his assets and yet that's what we've come to now.  I am trying to look at it as his last effort to take care of his children.  As if the situation wasn't icky enough I have to deal with his would be ex-wife.  Our relationship before this was strained and so far communication has been minimal.  This isn't helping. I'd like this step to get over with quickly so I never have to deal with her again.

The anger is slowly receding.  It's not gone but it isn't raging anymore.  Time marches on.