I have been wondering why today I am raw at the edges. On the train, I thought to myself that I wanted to love greatly in this world and started to cry. All day I have struggled to “keep it together.” And yet, nothing is really wrong…is it?
I looked at the phone which sits on my desk at work and noticed the date. October 20, 2010. Ten years and one day since I received word that my father had died.
We were never close. Our relationship was awkward and strained. And yet he shaped my youthful psyche in ways that still resonnate deeply in my daily life.
I learned things about him after his death that helped to explain why he continually pushed people away if they became too emotionally close. I see his struggle with depression while striving to answer a call from the Divine in my own struggles. I look to his life as a gauge of how not to be with myself and others in my life. And yet on some level my instinctual reactions are much the same as his seemed to be.
Ten years and I still grieve and fear and struggle. I have done rituals to find and offer forgiveness and release. I have written poetry and drawn pictures of my saddness. The pain is less than it was ten years ago, and the pain is the same as it was ten years ago.
I hated him. I loved him. I miss him. I am glad that this miserable life of his is over — maybe he’ll get another chance at happiness. Maybe he already has.
I still haven’t made my peace. I don’t know if I ever will.
Tomorrow will be ten years and two days. May my heart be opened. May my heart be strong. May my heart be filled with love.