Today marks three weeks since we buried my father, and it seems no less surreal today than it did on that day.
The finality of death is unsettling in myriad ways, and I have spent most of my time thinking about his loss in two very different veins. On the one hand, his death feels acutely like the word I just used to describe his passing–loss–so much so that it actually feels like I have lost him, left him behind, and that if I searched for him I would find him somewhere. I guess that is why they call it “loss.”
On the other hand, my father, who was such a presence in all of our lives, seems to be everywhere still, in sort of like an Obi Wan Kenobi-after-he-is-killed-by Darth Vader-glow-in-the-dark-Jedi Master-sort-of-way. Everywhere I turn I see him and I am comforted by knowing he will be with me always. In this sense, I am always finding him.
These are the twin currents of facing life without a loved one. The pain and the comfort. And I don’t expect either will ever go away, new companions, both wanted and unwanted, as life marches on.
Bald Mike's Blog 
Hi Michael! The pain will ease with time. The missing never really fully goes away. I lost my dad in 1982 and I still miss him. Give yourself time to experience all of the stages of grief. You have batteled so much, but look at how life renews itself in the form of your wonderful baby daughter. Nothing is static. There is constant change even in the most subtle of ways that we don’t really see at the time. It gets better. It gets easier. Savour all those wonderful memories and you will get through it slowly but surely. Hugs, Linda Phillips
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me too. mom
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