Memories of Loss

Today, those of us in Hospice volunteer training participated in a bereavement session. Each one brought a photo of a loved one who had died. I brought a photo of Dad. I had never been in one of these before and was surprised at the deep sense of connection I felt with the other women. Although none of our losses were the same, the thread of memories joined us. I didn't know what I would say. While speaking of Dad I experienced profound grief recalling when he could no longer communicate with me in email; I had been so excited over this form of relating when it developed between us that when it was broken, it seemed I lost him before he died (his being hard of hearing, we weren't able to speak on the phone). I wrote of Dad in an earlier blog post and he saunters cross my mind every day; I miss his messages and miss knowing that when Mom visits, he won't be with her anymore even though we talk of him all the time so he is definitely with us in spirit and in our hearts. He is present, though. I love you, Dad.