Dead people receive more flowers than the living ones because regret is stronger than gratitude.
— Anne Frank
I had an ongoing battle with my father. He couldn’t seem to stop telling me what to do and how I should be. I found it frustrating and felt he was insulting my intelligence. I mean, did he think I had no sense whatsoever. Then he died at 59. The shock sent a disruptive ripple through our entire family that took years to heal. I’ve heard that mourning can take on many forms and I was most surprised by my own reaction. In truth, I thought the end of my father’s criticisms and judgments would be freeing. In reality, I just felt numb. I spent a few years reliving the past and going through the five established emotions of grief; denial/isolation, anger, depression, bargaining, and finally acceptance. Amazingly enough, I began to miss those little debates we would have. My father was suspect of business because he felt there was an overriding element of greed. Fair enough, except my career and livelihood is in business, which I love. Another standard grievance of his was anything less than perfection, which is an impossible standard of course. What I’ve come to realize is that yes, my father was a tough nut, but he was also just trying to teach me and protect me. He didn’t want me to learn the hard way. Coming full circle, I would give anything to hear more of my father’s sometimes annoying and frustrating thoughts. With sufficient life experience under my belt, I can finally appreciate all he taught me. I continue to notice the pearls of wisdom that I learned from him. Thank you Dad. I love you.
Blessings,
Chatgirl
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