This may be different from most letters. My dad died forty years ago and I have never really got over it. Maybe you don’t. He was my whole life when I was a small child and everything good about me is because of him. He read poetry to me and taught me French when I was three years old. He used to make up stories involving both of us. We were always successful and had lots of adventures in these stories! It was all very magic, perhaps too much so! I write poetry and speak French because of him. He was so important in my life that in a sense he has never died. I carry him with me through my life and he will only die when I die.
The trauma of witnessing your loved ones die stays with too. my husband died nearly four years ago. In both cases the way they died was not ideal. it certainly wasn’t like the films. I have to block out the memories as they frighten me. I have had bereavement counselling but it didn’t take the pain away. However I have still coped and been relatively successful in my life. I am just making the point that you learn to live with the pain of bereavement. I doesn’t go away, just pales a bit with time. I enclose a poem I wrote. It is about my dad but I would like to share it. My thoughts are with everyone on the site. Stay strong. Pattoa.
Waiting for You.
Everything beautiful reminds me of you.
When the sun rises it rises from you.
I feel your love in every day
And every way.
Down the weeks and years and days
It warms me in a hundred different ways.
Not time, not even death
Can separate us
For we are one.
The broken half of me craves for you,
Waits for you,
Longs for reunion,
Once more to feel your hand in mine
Far away
On the other side of time.