Getting him back

There have been several times over this past year that I felt like I lost my Dad right along with my Mom.  At times that's been almost as hard as losing Mom.

Lewie was still there.  He still looked the same, but he was so different.

The voice was the same, but the things he said were different. 

He sounded like himself, but he didn't.

He sounded like my Dad, but he didn't.

My Dad's main parenting philosphy has always been, "rub it and say, "dog gone it"

It was his way of saying aknowledge the pain, and then move on.

I have tried very hard to not let my grief get in the way of his grief.  And I've tried very hard not to let his grief, or the way he has dealt with his grief get in my way.

But it has.

Through no fault of his own, at times, I've felt like I've had to become the parent.  Though he has never, nor would he ever, asked me to put my grief aside.  I've felt like I had to do it, to try to take care of him. 

I've tried to say the right things, which as you know, for me is VERY difficult.  I've tried to help.

But I've needed help too. 

My friends and family have been AMAZING.  But nothing takes the place of your parent.  I've needed for him to tell me to "rub it and say dog gone it.'  And I've needed him to do the same thing.

I've needed him to tell me that things were going to be ok, that we would get through it, even if he didn't believe it.

I've needed him to be the one to take care of me.

Dad feels guilty being happy.  He feels guilty having fun or enjoying things.

I understand this.  I know Mom wouldn't want him to feel that way.  HE knows Mom wouldn't want him to feel that way. 

But sometimes our brains and hearts don't see eye to eye.

Last night, I told Dad that sometimes I feel guilty for being so happy to have Courtlynn. 

She is such a doll.  I just adore her.

But if my Mom wouldn't have died... I wouldn't have had her. 

I feel guilty that I have such happiness... because of what it took to get it.

In my heart it feels like somehow this:

"Mom died.  I got Courtlynn.  Courtlynn makes me happy.  I am happy."

Gets all twisted into:

 "I am happy Mom died"

I told Dad how I felt. 

"Oh Sara!" he said, "You can't feel that way!  You know that!  God had a plan, and this was all part of the plan!"

Even if he can't believe that for himself right now, he was able to do what a parent does, and tell me what I needed to hear.

It was like he was telling me to "rub it and say dog gone it."

Last night, I heard a glimpse of "that" Dad.

Thank God.  I'm happy to have him back.