Today would have been my dad’s
71st birthday. It has been eight long
months since he left us, yet the grief
remains as raw and piercing as the
day we said our final goodbyes. The
world may move on, but for my
family – my siblings, my mother, and
me – each passing day without him
etches deeper into our hearts.
The truth about losing someone so
integral to your existence is that grief isn’t linear. It isn’t something that fades with time or heals completely. Instead, it transforms, taking on new forms and becoming an uninvited companion in our everyday lives. People often expect grief to lessen after a certain time, as though it’s a storm that will pass. But how can we explain that losing a father, a guiding star, is like losing a piece of our identity?
My father was the kind of person
who anchored us. His presence was
more than just physical; it was the
gentle reassurance that no matter
what, we would be okay. Without him, the world feels colder, more unpredictable. On days like today,
when we would have celebrated with laughter, stories, and warmth, the absence is so profound that it
echoes in every corner of our hearts.
We three siblings, each shaped by
different aspects of him, find our
own ways to cope. For one of us, it
might be through quiet reflection and solitude; for another, perhaps
through old photographs and shared
nemories. Our mother, his lifelong
partner, bears a grief that words will
never adequately capture. It’s a bond broken in the most irreversible way and yet, people seem to wonder why we haven’t “moved on.”
But here’s what they don’t understand: when you love someone
so fiercely, their absence doesn’t just
leave a void; it changes the way you
see the world. Birthdays, once a
celebration of life and joy, become
reminders of loss And while we may smile, laugh, or even go about our
daily tasks, a part of us still stands
silently by his side, aching for just
one more day, one more moment
one more word.
As we honor his birthday without him today, I find comfort in knowing that grief, in its own way, is love persevering. We grieve because we loved, and we continue to love him in every memory, every tear, and every smile that tries to find its way through the pain.
So, if you see us today and notice
that our laughter feels a little forced
or our eyes a bit distant, please understand that we are carrying a
weight you might not see. It’s the
weight of loving someone who isn’t
here to share it with us anymore. And in that love, we remember him, today and always.
