#grieving process 101

Without his laugh

Without his tears during sad movies that he would hide behind a smile like I do

Without his hugs

On the one hand--eurgh the matzot for a week, no kitnyot since I'm ashkenazi so basically potatoes in all shapes and forms ...

On the other hand--being able, Nay, encouraged, to ask questions about why this, why that, why why why ... that has always been a treat for me

So yeah, mixed feelings.

But now, there is this layer of grief that comes over all of it. The fact that five years ago, I had no idea that the seder we attended was the last meal I would share with my dad--but now I'm acutely aware of it

Last night, during the seder, i had to excuse myself to have a good cry in private because we had all been singing together and Dad's baritone was not present and it was ...

Unbearable

So, well.

Hag Pessah casher vesameah, my friends.

Hey it's this time of the year when I come to bother you , wherever you are

Did you see the year we had? Seriously?

But it's been, overall, and dare I say it, a not so shitty year for me Paps

I started taking meds for my mental health, meaning I asked for help before getting on the brim of self destruction

I learned a new craft and I swear I didn't see my love for it coming until it hit me like a brick (Mom had a field day watching me learn on YouTube, and so would you, if you had been here ...)

I'm still here, standing, growing gentler with myself with each hurdle I overcome

I still miss you like crazy, my Paps, but everything I do is more and more about affirming your good influence on the world in your absence

That's my new motto and I know for a fact that you would approve

Tikkun Olam, ride or die

Love you aba

I had to stop the film

My dad loved it very much and that's part of the reason why I decided to watch it today (tomorrow will be the 4th anniversary of his funeral and I can't even go to his grave since he's buried in Israel)

And there are moments in this movie when we would just ... look at each other and smile or high five or something

And not being able to do so just ... hurt too much so I stopped the movie

25 years ago, on this day, my grandfather passed away. It was the first grief O ever experienced, it was also the first time I heard my dad cry.

Joyeux anniversaire mon papou

Tu aurais eu 67 ans et j'aurai attendu minuit pour t'appeler, comme d'habitude

Est-ce que tes insomnies seraient passées avec le temps ? Est-ce que tu ne répondrais a mon message que au matin, en te reveillant ? Ou bien est-ce que tu aurais décroché, un sourire d'une oreille a l'autre dans la voix en m'entendant massacrer un "p'tit beurre day to you" ?

Je ne sais pas et je ne le saurai jamais

Ce soir je n'ai pas envie de sortir avec d'autres gens qui m'ont proposé qu'on aille se faire un petit diner parce que la seule personne avec qui je devrais diner ce soir c'est toi

Et que je ne peux pas

Et que je ne pourrais plus jamais

On m'avait bien dit que le deuil n'est pas un processus linéaire mais la, tu me manques trop Papa

Où que tu sois, tu dois être bien entouré

Aucun de ces chanceux n'a intérêt a oublier de te souhaiter ton anniversaire sinon je leur pète la gueule quand j'arrive, deal ?

A plus tard Papa

Dad

My favorite nerd

My pillar of strength and my model of what masculinity should/can be

Today you should have celebrated your birthday - 66! That would have been a cool day. Maybe I would have taken a day off work like I actually did, but for very different reasons.

Who knows what we would have done, to celebrate your birthday, since you love celebrating them so much.

It's all "would have, should have, could have" now any way.

I still celebrate YOU on this September 17th, but it does not get easier

Love you

But as the Sun goes down, Yom Hazikaron, a Day of Remembrance, starts, to pay a tribute to the soldiers who died so Israel could live.

My dad, z”l, was a soldier in the IDF--it was his dream as a teenager, to defend a country where the Jewish people didn’t have to fear of being thrown out, and he made his aliyah at 16 years old to fulfill that dream.

My dad was not left unharmed by the war he fought in--psychologically, the Kippur War left him scarred and grieving for all of his friends, barely in their 30s, who died in a war they had no say in.

My dad may not be here anymore to keep the memories of those fallen soldiers alive, but I am.

May their memories be a blessing