For my father - Til föður míns

I'm due for a blog. Very due. I've spent the last couple of days trying to figure out what to write about. The problem is that yesterday was Father's Day and there's some sort of terrible cloud that's settled over me. I can't think of anything else and so blogging about all of these wonderful things that I'm doing with all of my incredible new friends doesn't feel natural to me right now. Once again, I'm struck by the intrusiveness of guilt. It seems like no matter how far away you get from grief, whether you measure by time or distance, it  knows no boundaries. Because here I am, an entire universe away - and instead of laughing in the kitchen with my friends, I've banished myself because I don't belong there right now.

So, why am I writing this? Why would I sit down and write all of the things that are making my heart so terribly heavy? I didn't want to. I still don't. But I need to. If I've learned one thing from Dad's death, it's that grief is a powerful poison. Failure to recognize its presence and expel it leads to catastrophe. There was a time that I was so consumed by sorrow that it almost destroyed me. My inability to express myself caused me to be isolated and no one could see the terrible pain that I was in. Maybe right now I just need to have a good cry and allow myself to feel devastated, even though it feels like he died a life time ago. Instead, I will write - because it feels like the right thing to do. Expressing my feelings is hard, but keeping them in is destructive - and I have only an appetite for reconciliation

  Dear Dad,

I wonder where you are right now, when you went far away from me. I feel like I can barely see your face any more or remember the sound of your laugh. Losing you is the great tragedy of my life and it doesn't seem to matter how hard I try to resolve my grief. It's always with me and I never thought it would be. Everyday, I wake with the hope that I am absolved of the pain caused by your perpetual absence in my life. But that hope is false and I can never seem to shake this part of me that has been forever changed. It never goes away - like a curse.

I hate when people tell me that you would be proud of me. I hate it and that's not a reasonable thing to hate. I think what bothers me is that no one will be able to say that with certainty. The kind of certainty that comes from hearing you say those words to me. A proud hug that you might have given me. Or a smile that would have assured me that I'm on the right track. I can never know beyond a reasonable doubt that the only person that I've wanted to be proud of me, is. Because when you were alive, I don't think that I made you proud. And now I've accomplished things in my life that I know you wanted for me. But you don't get to be here. You never will be and it overwhelms me with pain and regret. Whenever I do something, I only want to tell you. After I graduated university, I spoke to you from my heart and wondered if you would have been happy - sitting in the stands to watch me get my parchment. Mum gave me your wedding ring to wear  and I couldn't take my eyes off it. I kept thinking that if life was more fair, that ring would be on your finger where it belongs and not with me. You would have been watching me from your seat beaming. But you weren't. Maybe you were watching me from heaven - but who can tell me that? Which one of the people in my life can assure me that you were there? That you would be proud? It's the absence of certainty. My inability to confirm that you would be proud. The eternal impossibility to seek your council. The absolute permanence of you death. I am forever haunted.

So here I am in Iceland and your ghost has followed me here and I can't explain why. My heart is so heavy with sorrow that I can barely breathe. I can't seem to put that feeling away. Yesterday, everyone wrote an email home to their father to wish them a happy fathers day. Except me - and I became consumed by anger and sadness. I have no one to write that letter to. You will not receive it. I have missed my opportunity to tell you how much I love you and how incredibly painful it is for me to live my life without you here. My chance to make you proud has expired. We ran out of time and there is so much that was left incomplete. Now all I have left is a gapping hole in my life that you used to occupy and memories that are altered by time. Crippling uncertainty. Pain that does not seem to have an antidote and is never resolved with time. I think about you everyday and wish you were here. But I fail to find you because you are lost to me. If I were perfect, I would be satisfied in knowing that you are here with me. But I'm not. I'm angry and full of sadness and I lack skill in reconciling  with your death.

I want to tell you that I miss you with my whole heart. I thought about you all yesterday and tried desperately think about other things that would make me happy. But I couldn't.

But I have this precious pearl of hope. This small piece of me that tries to believe. A quite voice in my head and heart that assures me that you are here. Somewhere hidden in me - and I'm not always able to find it. But if I search hard enough, and I have faith, I can get there....even if it is only for a moment. You are the most magnificent example of how to be a good person. You taught me to be the best person that I could be. And you continue to teach. I must believe that. This is my life’s true example of turning challenge into opportunity. That somehow you could leave me forever, but that if I continue to fight against the regret that threatens to condemn me to sadness, I might be able to succeed. You can't change the cards that you are dealt, but there always exists opportunity to survive. Maybe even to thrive. Losing you is a constant reminder that the greatest measure of life is the way that you love while you are here. My dear father, you have given me this strange good fortune....this magic opportunity...to find it in myself to believe that you live in my heart and soul. And that if I look hard enough, I can always find you if I need you. Even if it does not take the same shape that it did before. You continue to be the silent advisor to my mind and heart. My most initimate and private council - whose memory and wisdom always reminds me to think of others first, speak from my heart, and always concern myself with doing what is right, even if is not the same thing as what is easy. I am forever indebted to you for that.

  .......and sometimes, if I close my eyes, I can feel your arms around me

            ...........and it takes my breath away.

               With all of my love,

                       Sarah

And if I go while you're still here...
know that I will live on.

Vibrating to a different measure behind a thin veil you cannot see through.
You will not see me, so you must have faith.

I wait the time when we can soar together again both aware of each other.

Until then, live your life to the fullest.

And when you need me, just whisper my name in your heart,
.........and I will be there.

              -Hitchcock  (Ascension)

Sarah's Additional Viking Rules
-Never surrender
-Keep hope alive