Grief

 Today, for the first time in years I grieve loudly. I grieve my dad. Been years since he passed. 

Today as a death priestess/death doula, my perspective on my grieving process drastically changed. I concluded that mourning can be delayed, complicated, multilayered or complex and for me a solitary process. 

Having been too strong for too long, I now view help and commiseration as an offence, a sign of pity, or as an attack. I view help as a con move. To mourn someone can make one feel deeply vulnerable. 

From a young age, I knew I would be losing my dad early, he was old and sick. God knows how much I resented him for that. It was easier to be mad at him than to show him love. I preferred to expect his departure and detach myself than to get too close to him. Getting too close would hurt excruciatingly.

Today whenever I look into a mirror I see him. My life choices and opportunities, my flaws and my little habits are all a reflection of him. It as if by giving me his name, I received his curse. I had to bear similar burdens and bear his too. I still ressent him which is healthy but I do understand him too. 

All I wanted was to be loved, to be approved. Some might say I have daddy issues. But on the contrary, my unorthodox relationship with my dad made my wiser and stronger. I see so many things he could not see and for that I am grateful. From his mistakes I also learned. I am what I am and he played an important role, not always a good one but a crucial one.

To all those we loved; till we meet again. 

JH.