Will I get over this?
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| Sat, 11-06-2004 - 6:27pm |
After my father services, when my brother, sister and I were sorting daddy's things, I asked for several of his personal things. Amoung them were two shirt style jackets my daddy really liked. When I returned here, I stored them in my closet but would often get one down just to smell it. My dad's scent was still in it. Today I took it down but when I brought it to my nose nothing was there; the scent is gone. This sadden me so; as long as I could still smell him it was as though I still had a small part of him but now that too is gone.
I feel like such a wimp when I speak to my sister and I start to cry; she never cries and never knows what to say to me. I can express my feeling to my brother but then I bring him down. DH has been great but he has no idea how I am feeling; he has both his parents and is an only child so he can not relate to me.
As I am typing this the words are blurred because of my tears. He was such a wonderful person and everyone loved him. He was ill for some time and it was hard for him to get around his own home. Breathing was hard for him and he was using more and more oxygen. People are always telling me he is in a better place and I know that is true. I know it because my mind tells me so. My heart however misses him and would like him here with me.

My dad died 7/93, but now that I am in therapy, I have realized him being an alcoholic left me with more scars than happy times to remember, so it is a lot different for me. But I know someone who really loved their Dad and now 2 years later, it is still very hard for her to get over it.
I hope you find some peace about all of it, and that there is some happiness for you during the holidays. take care, hugs, Josie.
Hi and welcome
Josie had all the right things to say as far as I am concerned.
*hugs
bamagirl
Just a thought, but perhaps, you could try to remember which aftershave he used, and or the soap.
I remember a conversation I had with my Dad years ago after the death of a neighbor. I said...it's always the really good people who goes first. His reply was...
"If you came upon an apple tree and there were rotten apples on the ground and nice red apples in the branches, which one would you choose?"
"An apple from the tree, of couse", I said.
"Then why would you think God wouldn't want the good ones too?"
God picked one of the best apples when he picked my Dad.