I don’t know what to call this post. I just am feeling a little emotional this afternoon.
Today, I organised (on behalf of my family) the day to bury my Dad. Friday 13th August at 2.30pm. I can see him laughing at the irony now: a day full of superstition and unlucky accidents. In a sense, I feel relieved. In another way, I feel so upset that I want to stop work for today, go home and cry my eyes out. But he’d go mad.
I feel relieved. This has been hanging over all of our heads. And through no one’s fault, we’ve had to put it off. Brother had a month work experience. I had to go back to work. Dad’s brother away on holiday. Loads of bits that have forced this final bit to be postponed. Maybe this will be the final bit of closure, the step towards accepting everything. I am still feeling, although I can talk about my Dad until evolution allows us to grow wings, like I will wake up and this will be a horrible horrible nightmare, and Dad will email me at work, congratulating me for a weight loss or asking if I need any help for couriers in London.
I feel upset because it does make it all the more real. I know I won’t wake up. And this confirms that.
And so, I am trying to celebrate my Dad by listening to all the songs that remind me of him, whilst trying to work. Not feeling it. I want to go home, curl up and cry. *sigh*