On Grief and Ramblings about Faith

As Christmas approaches, so does my father’s birthday (December 23rd). The holidays have been more melancholy since he passed in 2018. The first holiday season without him was the worst of the bunch, and 2019 was lighter. This time around, the grief still lingers.

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The Eve of the Funeral (a poem)

On the eve of the funeral, there was a knot in my stomach –

his death was so sudden

a Friday night phone call + he’s gone forever

I felt panic, a wave of grief that threatened to demolish me

my sister stepped into the summer night + screamed

a primal shout that began long years of healing.

(Photo by Richard Burlton on Unsplash)

A Feeling that No Longer Exists (a poem)

Grief is not a neat, five-stage process that can

be completed like a grade-school assignment.

It’s more like losing someone and then losing

yourself, as well – there’s shock, denial,

and depression – but also the feeling that

there’s a new void that’ll never be filled.

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Happy Father’s Day!

Today is a sad day for me, but I’m also feeling hopeful. This marks the second Father’s Day since my dad passed away. In fact, tomorrow will mark the second anniversary of the day he passed. My life irrevocably changed that day on June 22, 2018, but I feel that my grief journey has gotten lighter.

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The Hate Inside of Me (a poem)

I only wanted love from you, but loving you was pain –

the laughter one day, followed by grief and terror

from whatever state you happened to be in.

I ask myself, “Who were you?”

You discarded me like an object and

closed off that side of yourself

that seemed to contain the Devil.

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Grief, One Year Later

In the years leading up to my father’s death, I’d been preparing for it. He was diagnosed with cancer a decade ago and, since then, his health slowly, but surely, deteriorated.

When it comes to grief, I learned no amount of mental preparation will suffice. Sure, I’d seen grandparents pass away, but this was different: this was my dad, the man who I both loved and at times loathed.

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