Life After Death

Am I ready to write? Am I ready to put myself out there, exposed, vulnerable, opening my heart to pain, opening my heart to joy? Am I ready to live? I struggle to write this article in the exact same way I struggle to live in fullness and joy each and every day; stumbling, questioning, filling with sadness, and feeling uncertain. I’m not really sure how to be me anymore, as if the foundation of who I am has been rocked, cracked, possibly even destroyed.

There is nothing in this world that can prepare you for the loss of a parent. I knew, in the logical part of my self, that one day my parents would pass over to another space of being. I would lose their presence in human form. I have always thought and spoken about death openly, honoring it as one of the gifts in living fully, speaking with my son about death in the same way we speak about how his day at school was or what he wants to be when he grows up. Yet still, my father has died and I can’t seem to find my way.

Friends are always asking me how I am doing and it is one of the most difficult questions to answer. In all honesty, I don’t know how I am doing. No matter how I answer, there is always a “but” to add. I am doing well, but… Or, I am happy, but… But, I miss my dad. But, my father is no longer here for me to talk to, hold his hand, or receive a hug.

I had a great day, but….

Somehow, it doesn’t feel right to be happy. There is something that doesn’t feel good. I hold myself back from fully living, from fully opening up. Happiness and joy has now become a painful reminder of this tremendous loss, of this big empty space within my heart. I hear my father telling me to live, to be happy, to move on and stop holding myself back for him. I know this is not what he would want. Yet, I can’t seem to take the leap. I can’t seem to let go.

And so, I force myself to write this. To take this very giant step and put myself out there in the best way I know how; by opening my heart and sharing my truth. I feel resistant, and so I know I am scared. I know I am on shaky ground.

I want to leave you with inspiration, with guidance. Share with you the ways in which I have overcome and persevered. Leave you with something profound. I want this, and more, yet I only have my truth to share with you. It is with my truth that I make my first attempt to connect with the world, share myself, and be vulnerable. I’m not sure who I am without my dad here on earth, but I am willing to share my struggle with you as I falter, discover, and learn to be who I am once again.

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