Is Time such a great healer?

We are coming up to the anniversary of my Dad's death. 

He died, out of the blue, 17 years ago. 

He was 54. I was 27. Sudden death from a heart attack. 

I woke up to the phone ringing. It was early. It was my Mum. 

'Emma, it's me. Can you come out. Dad has died.' 

I just remember saying 'No' and telling her we would be out there as soon as we could. 

I was sharing a house with my brother. 

'Dale, wake up. That was Mum on the phone. Dad has died'. 

I wonder if he has flashbacks of me telling him, as I do of me telling him. I can still see his face. The horror. The shock. The disbelief. I will always hear my Mum's words in my ears. Words that can be replayed at any time & feel as raw as the first time I first heard them. 

No chance to say goodbye. Just gone. Ended. Over. 

I spent the 1st year afterwards coping very well. Or so you would have thought. In fact, I wasn't dealing with it at all. I was in shock. I was numb. But I carried on.  I was the organiser. I rang the family. I shared the news. I worried about other people's feelings. I made sure everyone else was ok. 

My Mum was a mess. That day I stopped being someone's daughter & became a parent. A parent who had never given birth. 

A year later, I fell apart. The grief kicked in. Nobody understood. Shouldn't I have been over it by now? A year is no time at all in the world of grief. It's just getting started, not coming to an end. 

Honestly, it took me 7 years to think about my Dad dying without feeling like I'd been stabbed in the heart & needed to gasp for breath. 

Before Lola was born, I felt like I was getting used to the idea. I missed him but  was getting used to him not being around. Getting used to not seeing him, not talking to him, not laughing with him. 

When Lola was born I felt like like the grieving started all over again. I was sad for my daughter, I was sad for my Dad, grieving for the lack of opportunity. That these 2 amazing people would never meet. We were all robbed. Now it's not just my birthday he's missing, now he will be missing my daughter's Birthday too. 

Every special occasion, every Christmas, he's missing. 

I wonder what he would of made of Lola. I wonder how he would of been with her. I'm so gutted that Lola has been robbed of a Grandfather. I'm now grieving for her too. I'm angry on her behalf. 

They say time is a great healer. 

Has time healed me? No. 

Sometimes I don't think I'll ever be 'over it'. 

Death is the only thing in life that's guaranteed & yet the hardest thing to come to terms with. 

I miss my Dad.