One Year On

Well, it’s been a year since my dad died. It almost goes without saying that the events from that time have been going through the minds of me, my mom, and my brother in recent days. Those two went up to Santa Fe to visit his grave site on Sunday, as well as the sites of other relatives honored with a burial there. Me? I’m not big with the cemetery thing. Doesn’t really make much sense to me. Instead, I’ve been basking in the memories of the baby shower I went to on Saturday. Honestly, I’d much rather be celebrating the coming of a new life than fretting about a past death.

It’s been amazing how different it’s been in this past year. Sure, there were about six months where we were trying to adjust. Since I run household, I was busy for most of that time trying to get everything changed over to our new status. (That’s mostly done, btw, only a couple of small things left to do.) I guess the thing we are all appreciating the most is the fact that the exhaustion and stress of the illness is behind us.

It’s funny how it’s taken most of this year to get used to the new responsibilities. Up until the last few months of his life, I was including my father in as much as possible. This year, by and large, I didn’t have his help to fall back on. It was different. One of the good things, though, is that my father had taught me since childhood to do all the practical things he knew to do. Once the mantle of household handyman was placed on my shoulders, I pretty much hit the ground running. Plumbing, woodworking, electrical, whathaveyou… none of it was a problem.

I guess, for me, the biggest thing I’ve had to juggle is time. Trying to keep this house in shape without too much help is a full-time job. Add in that I’m trying to manage my own life, and some things are having to slide more than I’d like on both sides of the ledger. There is only so much time and so much energy I have to give to everything that needs doing. I’m almost keeping up. Maybe now that this year is under my belt the scheduling will be a little easier.

Of course in the mix with this were the changes coming via the Scotts*. With the various relocates, Scarlet’s pregnancy, me helping with the horse… there was a lot to have to adapt to. Even so, they’ve been a major factor in keeping me feeling sane. They have this special power that quietly assures me that I’m loved; and that helps more than any Christmas present or bundle of cash I’ve ever received (not that I’ve ever gotten a truly satisfying bundle of cash, but I’m just sayin’). I wish I could convey how important they are in my life. I’ve tried, but I always manage to feel like I’ve not quite gotten there.

I do miss my dad. A lot. That’s not going to go away, and I think that’s a very good thing. He was my rock. I knew that if-ever or whenever I needed him, he’d be there. If I did something particularly stupid, he might have yelled at me (not that I did much that was particularly stupid), but I never had a doubt that he would be there by my side or watching my back. When it comes to the girls, I try to follow his example, but I know I’ll never measure up. As dads go, mine was pretty excellent.

It was an honor to be able to have him lean on me during his last few years. As he was able to do less and less, and as his fears would surface from time-to-time, I tried to be there for him. When the times were the toughest for him, I was the one he sought for comfort. And I was the last one whose name he stopped remembering. It was hard—very hard—but what a gift to get to show my dad that I didn’t waste the investment of love he made with me. I don’t wish what we went through on anyone, but if your parent has to lean on you, be proud if you are able to provide the shoulder of support that keeps them from falling.

So, the year of grieving is over. Now it’s on to our own lives. My dad will forever be in the hearts of those who loved him, and that is the best legacy of all. I don’t try to forget. Instead, I try to use his example to do as well as I’m able. For me, that is how to best honor someone who has passed.

We’ve now had a year to settle into a new rhythm of life. It’s different than when my dad was around, but it no longer feels like we are fighting the change. If there is any clear end to our grieving, it’s that. We have gone on with living, and that’s really the whole point: Don’t forget, but keep moving forward.