It’s been awhile since I’ve written. My thoughts are a bit jumbled about my dad and life has just taken over. It makes me sad that I don’t think about him daily.
The trauma is still there. But the wound isn’t as fresh. I’ve gone so long now (over 4 years) since I’ve talked to my dad, even longer since I last saw him. Life moves on. But there’s a sadness with that too.
I am a different person with my grief. I have grown and evolved. I have witnessed so many little miracles and tender mercies. But some of that ‘noise’ isn’t so often anymore. I haven’t dreamt of my dad. I am not waiting for answers to my grief. It’s like a thing of the past. However, I am so grateful for those tender mercies I’ve experienced and how Heavenly Father helped me so much the first year. I still remember the feelings of peace and calm. And the answers that I received.
So yes, this trauma changed me. For the better. I am more mindful of situations and mental health. I have more compassion for others. I have a love for my Heavenly Father and a testimony of his love for me.
I miss my dad. Very much so. The other day, I had a split second thought of calling him to talk to him about something. It was heartbreaking that I can’t just pick up the phone and call him.
I carry this trauma with me always. Some times it’s been a burden to carry, but in spite of it all, I think I’ve carried it well.