Friday, January 11, 2013

Darn You Ttwd and Your, Your ..FEELINGS !

     TTwd….take it back!  Sometimes that is how I feel.  I know I am not alone in this. I am not talking about how this relates to mine and Barney’s relationship.  That is chugging along
  It certainly is no utopia, don’t misunderstand, but things between us are ..well months ago there were things between us.  Things I didn’t realize were there to some degree.  Now there are less things between us so that is good. 

The reason why I say take back ttwd has nothing to do with spankings, or rules, or not meeting expectations- either from my HoH or  myself.  I say this because of  the ability to feel.  Sometimes it is  inconvenient to say the least.

Long before another blogger shared her pain with the loss of her father, I was in a place I hadn’t been in for quite some time.- wrapped in the security blanket of suppression.  For anyone who has lost someone they care about the holidays can be bitter sweet.  It has been a very long time since I lost my someone special, and last year was the first year that the day came and went and I didn’t take note.   The thought of that years ago would have frightened me to no end.  Oddly, last year I took comfort in this.

 This year however, was a totally different situation.  Some may argue that because it has been in the subject of some blogs as of late,- that this has brought it to the forefront of my mind.  In my particular case this is not so.  Within days from now will be the ‘anniversary’ of my father’s death.  I won’t keep this post up for very long as it will most likely end up having too much personal information contained in it.  (Lessen the chances of a family member or neighbour discovering me down the line.)

I was the ripe old age of 20 when my Dad succumb to a relatively short illness with cancer.  He wasn’t feeling well in the summer of that year.  By November he was diagnosed, he had surgery in December  by the middle of January he was gone.  He was 64 years old.

 Like most 19 year olds I knew everything and the world was just waiting for me to concur it.  That  feeling lasted for a very short time.  I know many people who weren’t as fortunate as I, to have had their father as long as even I did.  So I am not going to sit and talk about having my brother walk me down the aisle, or my husband not knowing half of who I am.  One doesn’t need a very active imagination to know what milestones were not shared between us.

This was the time I believe where I started stuffing emotions down.  I became so good at mentally switching gears when I felt sad that I began to even scare myself.  I don’t remember anything about the last Christmas I spent with my Dad, the good- bye as I was leaving to travel back here, and I remember very few things about  my Dad’s funeral.  This is very unusual for me as I can remember things that happened when I was 3 years old.

I remember the phone call that he had died ( it was very sudden).  I remember my journey home and my eldest sister greeting me-holding me and crying, saying

 “ I’m sorry peanut that you didn’t have him for very long”

I remember my response, “ Yeah, but I had him better”

“ Yes you did”

In my original composition, this is the point where I started to tell multiple Wilma and Dad stories.  I’ll include them at the end for anyone who craves a little poorly written light reading, but for those who chose not you will be we able to skip to the comments ( or not)

To say I have been in a ‘funk’  lately is understated.  A guilty funk in some regards.  After all my Dad said when he was diagnosed that the coming of the close of his life was not a tragedy.  It was life.  He was fortunate enough to see all of his children become adults.  He had led a very happy and fulfilling life.  He had very few regrets.  The only regret he has was that he didn’t kiss his sons more.  The girls would come home for a visit, or leave to go back to their homes and the greetings always included a hug and kiss.  The boys received a hand shake.
He was at peace with his departure.  I wasn’t.  I think there is one inaccurate point in his statement, he didn’t see all of his kids become adults.  Twenty is not an adult.

Anyway, bad ttwd wife, I have been crying in the shadows for two weeks.  I know I am ‘supposed’  to go to Barney.  I just don’t WANT to.  I don’t want to share.  This is mine, and I don’t want to share.  Internally I have been searching, and searching for a wall to hide behind, but darn it ttwd, you’ve removed them!  I was  laying in bed last night, envisioning by insides empty, with a ball bearing floating around my chest cavity- searching for something to stop it.  A bumper …  Nothing. 

The night before Barney wasn’t feeling well, I jumped at the opportunity to sleep on the couch.  I didn’t realize it but I wanted to be alone.  Last night I wanted to do the same, but physically I climbed into bed beside him.  I didn’t fall asleep on his chest.  I rolled on my side, fetal position-tears streaming down my face.  My stomach convulsed, almost as if I were vomiting.  My chin vibrated, while I tried to stifle my sobs.

I could feel my husband’s presence behind me. He didn’t try to reach out to me, but I could feel his frustration.  For once, since we started ttwd, I was not moved by this.  I had no desire for touch.  The craving for my husband’s touch was gone for the moment.  I don’t know why I have such a strong desire to ‘go through’ this alone. 

Barney had never met my father.  He did know me when my Dad passed away.  There was many of times months after my Dad died that I would run past his area of our work place to the women’s washroom to sit on the floor and cry.  We worked with another man, a friend, who was once my roommate, Hugh, and he would always stop whatever he was doing and chase after me- right into the ladies room.  A year later he was killed.  Barney and I were together then. I showed up at his house in the middle of the night after I found out about Hugh’s accident.  Yet I still can’t turn to him now.  Perhaps because it has been so long?  I am not sure.  I really don’t think it is that.  I just- I want to…heck I don’t know what I want.  I am distancing .

At the grocery store today, in the cereal aisle, I suddenly wanted Barney.  I wanted his arms I wanted to breakdown, and sob uncontrollably.  Initially, one would think it an odd place for a mental breakdown, but the grocery store is always hard for me.  I see ‘little old men’ and it makes my heart ache.  Ache for something I never had to opportunity to see.  His skin didn’t thin.  He didn’t have liver spots, or complain of the aches and pains of old age.( I know that sounds odd for me to say when he passed away at 64).  My parents did not have one year together alone in 39 years of marriage in their house.  For a few years now I have been able to go to the grocery store with very few thoughts like this. 

I suspect that you will say, there indeed is a wall within me, and it cracked a bit when I was at the store.  That I should embrace my need for my husband- the desire for his touch in this is there.  I clicked the switch.  By the time I returned home, I was distant again. 

The fact of the matter is, I . Don’t. Want. To. Feel. This.  For 21 years I have been able to allow just a bit out .  This is like I’ve sprung a leak or something.  Side note, has anyone else out there noticed that sad tears actually burn the cheek, but not happy tears, or even tears of anger?

My Dad was 44 when I was born.  To say I was a surprise would be an understatement.  My next sibling was 8 years older, and there were no missed pregnancy in between.  All of their friend had kids  that were at least as old as my brother.  Most were teenagers.  I was the belle of the neighbourhood ( yes, yes that explains a lot I know).

 My Mom had finally began to retrieve a bit of her life back, outside of the home when she found out she was pregnant with me.  Later in life I asked her if she had wanted to jump off of the refrigerator when she found out she was pregnant again…her diplomatic response “  welllllllllllllll ". ( Lol.)  Anyway my Dad made it easier for her to pursue activities by taking me everywhere with him.  I remember standing at the front door waving with my Dad above me holding the screen open in the dead of winter because Saturday Mommy went skiing and Wilma and Daddy had the entire day to themselves -my brother and my other siblings?  Pffft who cares where they were?

My Mom has some favourite stories she loves to tell over and over again.  I was ( apparently ) a very unique little girl.  I began to speak sooner than my siblings and with complete adult level sentences at an early age ( guess I dropped that habit ).  I ran before I walked…go ahead make some Dd analogy about that one.   And I had a very vivid imagination. 

My Dad would come home from work, and before he had his tie off I would be dragging him down the hallway to my bedroom.  My Mom peaked in once to see what we did everyday.  My Dad, with now loosened tie, was perched on the edge of my twin sized bed, I was sitting beside him, legs stretched out,  clutching my sock clad feet.  We were apparently staring at the side of my highboy dresser.. What happened next had my Mom stifling a laugh.  A 3 year old Wilma pointed to the side of the dresser, slapped her Dad’s knee and fell back on the bed in a fit of giggles rolling around holding her belly.  This naturally had my Dad laughing too. My Mom announced that it was dinner and I ran out of the room.  As my Dad got off of the bed she said, 

“ What was that all about?”

As he passed her in the doorway, still in his work clothes he said in a calm, matter of fact voice,

“We were watching Sesame Street on t.v. obviously”

Her all time favourite story is about a business trip we ( the 3 of us- again apparently I had siblings ?) .took  I must have been around the same age because I have seen pictures from this trip.  In the photo I am about 3, probably just before I turned 4 based on the colour of my hair.  My hair was in two pigtails that always seemed for form two perfect ringlets.  My eyes- dark brown, and forever in a state of looking like a deer caught in the headlights.  I had a swanky pair of blue polyester pants on with a red diamond pattern, or were they red with blue diamonds- just goes to show you how busy the pattern was.  Naturally they had a seam sewn down the front of the leg, to give the impression that they were pressed. ( honestly they are glorified plastic….who would press those ?) My feet were adorned with lovely little red canvas, slip on sneakers with the white rubber toe front, to protect what ?, I’m not sure exactly.  To top of this nightmare outfit from the 70s, a tight, blue turtle neck that made me look stomach like I drank a case of beer daily.

We were traveling to a place I’ll call Whitefish.  My Mom had noticed in the morning I was quite excited about our trip, but once the 3 of us got in the car my demeanor had changed.  I was sullen and a tad curt with her, and only her.  We stopped at a picnic spot near Whitefish River.  As the story goes, as the car came to a stop, I said,

“ Okay Mommy you can get out here.”

My mom didn’t really think much of it at the time, other than I was happier.  She attributed it to me finally being out of the car ( motion sickness).  Once back on the road, my attitude resumed. I apparently asked 3 more times if this is where we were dropping “ HER off”
  Anyway the next morning in the hotel room, my Dad was getting dressed in low light, and my mom was reading, apparently not to wake me.  She said the next thing she noticed was hurricane Wilma- Flinging back the bedspread, rushing to the suitcase, frantically searching for and putting on more polyester ( okay I added the polyester part).  When my Mom asked what I was doing?  Why I was in such a hurry.  Out of breath I replied

“ I have get ready  to go with Daddy ! We are here for a business trip !”  

That is when she turned to my Dad and said.

“What did you TELL her….EXACTLY ?”

“ I told her that I had to go to Whitefish on a business trip and she was coming with me………oh HELL 

“No wonder she kept trying to throw me out of the car every time we stopped.  She thought it was just going to be you and her “

Now my mom laughs as she retells the story, but there was one very sad little girl and one very upset Dad that she was.(.and perhaps one upset mom too…lol )

My Dad LOVED sports. Oh goodness not to play, to watch.  My brothers were both very athletic, and I remember more than once sitting next to him at one of my brother’s basketball games covering my ears, as my soft spoken father transformed into some crazed sports fan.  My mother continued skiing for many, many years and for several years once I was older I would go with her.  This incident took place in those in between years.  My Dad and his friend were in our basement watching something- who knows, (my Mom once mocked, “ If they threw **** against the wall , and kept score, you’re Dad would watch it “. )  I came down stairs, I was about 10 at the time, with a fully baked apple pie for them.  Most likely out of fear for what the kitchen looked like, my Dad started at me, 

“ When did you do this !”  His friend merely burst out laughing, “ And just what is so funny?”

His friend replied, “ She came down about 2 hours ago and asked you if she could bake a pie.  And you said yes”

“ Oh sorry sweetie..I guess I was wrapped in ‘the game’ “  ( I don’t remember, but I’m sure I might have known to ask at that time *wink* )  

There was plenty of tear and aggravation between us too.  I once came home with a 94 on my report card and the response, “ Plenty of room at the top”

Contractions were not to be used in our house.  No can’t , don’t , wouldn’t…sigh, cannot, do not, would not.  Boy oh boy would he be disappointed in my speech now.  Sheesh, since moving to the area I am now living, I have  dropped the ‘g’ off the end of some words! Eeek

Another thing…as I’ve said before “ Wilma, dogs turn mad, people get angry”…okay, so no MAD either- unless one is insane.  Oh and his personal pet peeve, referring to my mother as SHE.  Nope NOT a good idea.  “ She is the cat.  The woman in the kitchen is your mother” (wow how 1950's sounding)

I remember before heading out to university, he sat me down to have a serious talk.  He began moving around a bit in his chair.  I learned after, through other serious chats, that he was very concerned about how the conversation would go, when he moved in his chair like that.

 “ Wilma, I am very worried about you going away to school.  More so than your sisters.  Boys, well boys there are not like the male friends you have here.  You have always had boyfriends, well male friends,-oh hell!  They are going to expect things from you if you are so nice, and familiar with them like you are the boys around here.  Do you understand what I am talking about?”   Bwahahahaha! 

The day I was unpacking in my university dorm room, my Mother made herself scarce for some reason, as I unpacked.  So very unlike her.  My Dad finally said to me, “ Can you at least pretend to be a little bit sad about leaving home.  I mean for your mother’s sake? “

This was the early 90s so girls were wearing suit jackets and leggings, bulky sweat shirts, and sweaters.  As I was hanging ‘my’ clothes in my new closet my Dad chuckled,

“ Well I sure am glad I am here watching you unpack so I won’t be searching all over our house for my clothes”

I still have some of his sweaters!

One of my favourite interactions came after he came back from shoveling the driveway, 

" It is cold as Hell out there!"

" Um, Dad?  As Hell?"

" Oh, (laughs) well you know what I mean "

The last memory I have of my father was New Years Eve ( feel free to read into that if you like).  New Years Eve was a month after what was to be his life saving surgery.  It turned out to be an open him up, take a look, close him surgery.  From that point on he had a very difficult time keeping things ‘down’. 

My parent’s friends were coming to our house New Years Eve.  Normally there would be a huge party.  This year there were just 8 of them, and myself.  As usual, I think everyone was dressed up. Everyone except my father.  My dad wore a forest green track suit, with a wide blue band across the middle.  He had only lost about 20 pounds, and he was not a huge man, but big enough that it wasn’t that noticeable.  To me his glasses seemed too big.  Before the company arrived, he said,

“ Wilma, would you go downstairs and get me a beer please?”

“ Sure what kind do you… ( interrupted by my mother)  

 Now ________ why don’t you have a ginger ale, your stomach….” 

“ I am going to throw it up anyway, I might as well enjoy it going down.”

I remember nothing else aside from midnight.  As is tradition when Old Lang Syne is sung, we cross arms, holding hands and form a circle.  I remember looking across the circle at my Dad.  That is the last memory I have of him alive.  Not a bad memory I have to admit.

At the funeral home, my oldest sister fussed with his hair, because it didn’t look right.  I remember my brother laughing, “ Yeah I does not look right because he wore Brylcreem  in it every day of his life.  God awful stuff.  They have it feathered! “

Before they closed the casket, my family individually,  with their spouses, went to say good bye and kissed him.  I didn’t want to do that.  I wasn’t’ afraid to touch him because he was dead.  I just didn’t want my last feel of my father to be cold.  I went for the sake of my mother.  I walk up to the casket, bent down to kiss my Dad and before I could make contact, a shock, and a BIG one transferred between us.  It actually felt like it burnt my lip.  My oldest brother just looked down at me and smiled a knowing type smile.

I think of him often and remember things that he probably would find odd

"--Never wrap a present on a soft surface ( yes it was he who taught me how to wrap)

--Cold water gets rid of bubble, but don’t rinse your dishes with cold water because you can’t use a towel to dry them

-I had always hoped you would be a lawyer – you love to debate, you find passion  to stand up for others but not yourself

-I hope you marry someone with a lot of money.  Money burns a hole in your pocket.  And you don’t even spend it on yourself "

So I always wrap gifts on the floor.  No exception.

I always rinse the sink with cold water, but never a glass..

Well I’m not a lawyer.

And I am not rich with monetary goods

So 50% on that report card.  Plenty of room at the top! *wink*


  1. Hi there my friend :)

    This is so, so good :) I wish I had some magic words....or something to make this time easier for you....but I don't. So, I will just say that I understand....and offer you the biggest virtual hug ever. As Ryan said to and your dad were not done....not by a long much unfinished business. I have my years....when the date of his passing...or heck just random moments....are harder than others. And yes, you are so right...ttwd is going to cause all of that to come pouring out...and that is perfectly okay.

    So, when those times come to me....the times the pain is almost too much to bear....I look around and see something that he would boys, nature, his favorite team....and I take a moment and soak it all if I could live that moment for both of us. Sometimes....that is all you have.

    I said this at my dad's funeral.....and it is so does not die....people love him by living the best and happiest life that you can. He is, I am sure, so proud of you!

    Lots of love....(and tears)....


  2. Oh Willie, Willie, Willie

    I needed the tissues for this one. You are right, 19 is not an adult. You were still essentially an 'almost adult' having to deal with something that you did not want too.

    The emotions that you are feeling need to let out...those emotions that, though you cried in the ladies room for many months afterwards, you still would of stuffed down.

    You cried for your you need to cry for yourself. For YOUR loss. Let it out Willie.

    Sleeping on the couch and using Barney's not feeling well as an excuse is Distancing. Not wanting to share your emotions with him is a shut down...more than distancing.

    Barney loves YOU. Right now you need his arms around you. You need that assurance that all is ok, that YOU are loved.

    It is OK to is OK to feel this way...Willie, go to Barney, tell him, cry and let him hold you. Let him hold you until the hurt and pain, though will never probably leave you, lessens. Let Barney understand...then you will never be alone in this grief and will always have his arms to turn too.

    Many many many hugs Willie

    1. Thanks for the many hugs and your thoughts M3


  3. I understand why you don't want to share this right now. I get it. I do hope you did share with Barney your need to do this alone so he would understand what exactly was happening.
    I love the stories Wilma. Have you ever shared them with your kids?
    Watching Sesame Street with you on your dresser told me everything I needed to know about your dad. He was one of the best.
    It is time for you to feel it and hopefully soon to share it with Barney.
    Thanks for sharing it with me. I feel honored to have known him even this much. And now I am crying.
    Big tight hugs and much love Willie.
    Blue Bird

    1. Yes Blue Bird I talk about my Dad all the time to my kids- just like my Mom did about her Dad. I never knew my grandfather, but I know so much about him.

      I am happy you enjoyed my ramblings. He most definitely was one of the good ones. So many of the older kids from my neighbourhood growing up, have came up to me with stories of my Dad over the years. He was very loved, and I very blessed.

      Thanks for the big tight hugs, today I can accept them


  4. Willie,
    You shut down when you lost your Dad - it is a normal, self preserving reflex. The 20 year old girl you were had to go on with her life, and that is the coping mechanism that you used.
    It's okay, sweetie....
    Other than a few small leaks, you have kept this emotion tightly bottled for a good long time. It is probably a little scary to open up to us, and especially Barney, because you know how hard we cry in our husband's arms, more than any other.

    I understand exactly what you are talking about when you are complaining about the oppressive weight of the emotions that seem to be bearing down on you since beginning to open up.

    Let me preface what I am going to say with the disclaimer that I know nothing about what I am talking about, but here goes:

    Your oldest prince is getting close to the age that you were when your dear Dad got sick. In my humble experience, that can often be a psychological tipping point for emotions that have been long numbed by the necessity of survival. Dealing with these feelings now, in dd with Barney by your side, is perhaps a wonderful gift, Willie. You will be strong enough come that time, to understand what is happening and come to terms with your grief.

    You focused on Barney's strengths as a father in your lovely letter of the other day. It is an important part of his role in all your lives.....understandably so.

    There is no question, of course about New Year's Eve, we are far more at the mercy of our unconscious minds than we ever realize.

    Ian is sitting here beside me and looks like his heart is breaking for you. He has me type:
    It is because you are in a very good relationship that this is happening. It is no mistake that we begin to deal with things that really hurt the young us, when we are in our forties. We are in a better place with our children (they are older and not bouncing on our knee anymore), we are more financially stable usually, and that initial angst about "will we make it" has past. Now your unconscious mind begin to bring forward those things that are left unresolved, like a parent who died too soon for a child that loved him.
    Ian says: It isn't easy, but this is a good thing, in the big scope of things. Open up to Barney and let him help you. As husbands, that is what we need to do when our wife is hurting.

    Willie, take care sweetie. You know where we are, if you need to talk.
    big big hugs
    lillie and ian

    1. Thank you Lillie and Ian.

      As always you are a huge help- even just know you are there :)

      Much Love

  5. Hi Willie, Your writing was so eloquent about your Dad. I can see the love you have for him in your writing. I say have because he's just a little farther on the journey of life than you are and he'll be there waiting when you join him. I can identify a bit, I lost my mother in my late teens and my Dad before I was 30. It changed who I was.

    I remember grieving them both. There is a thing we do to protect ourselves called compartmentalizing. It is a very healthy thing to do. We do it so we can accomplish all the things we have to do in the day without becoming overwhelmed by emotions. I can remember lying in bed right after their deaths and just letting a tiny bit of the grief be felt until it was too much and then I would shut it down and close it up in its compartment. Every time I did that, it was a little bit easier. I had no comforting arms around me and that actually made it easier because I could shut things down when I needed to, Maybe that is why you are doing a lot of this "feeling" on your own, so you can be in control of how much you feel at any given time.

    I don't see if as distancing. It is slowly getting yourself used to the feelings of grief that you have. I know that as time went on and the feelings were less raw and more manageable, that was when I welcomed people giving me comfort. For me, I had to dip my toes in the pool of grief alone, so to speak until I was ready to have anybody join me.

    I would also say I think you grieve when you are ready. I think I probably grieve my mother's death far more now than I ever did when it occurred. I am ready now. Maybe you are ready now to grieve your dad and Barney will be right there for you when you're ready to be comforted.

    Hugs from one fatherless daughter to another,

    1. Thank you Cynget!

      When I first read this it struck a cord in me. Now that I am more 'stable' if you will I think this is exactly what has been happening. The explosions of emotions were a shock to me - again almost always alone. I have begun to let my guard down, whether through Dd or time or the combination of both. The only time in the past I have done so, is after ( more than 3) wine...and it always resulting in me on the floor crying. It never felt resolved, but there was an outpouring when I couldn't focus on stopping it. I suppose this is progress.

      I am sorry for your loss of both your parents at such a young age.

      Big Hug

  6. I really enjoyed reading about your father and your relationship with him. Does Barney read your blog? If not, perhaps share this post with him. Grief is a tricky thing, not showing up sometimes when you think it should be there and then popping up seemingly out of nowhere at times. I'm sorry your dad died when you were so young, but I'm glad you have such wonderful memories of him. (((hugs)))

    1. Hi Grace.

      Yes Barney does read my blog. He usually reads it within 24 hours but this week his schedule is difficult and he didn't have the opportunity while I was in the midst of this.

      I do have so many wonderful memories, and I am grateful. I am aware that others are not so fortunate.

  7. I have no words and the other ladies have said it beautifully. I think you've done your father proud by sharing him with all oh us. Thank you.



    1. I know what it is like to have no words- seriously I do!

      Thanks P


  8. I wish I had some sweet words of wisdom for you, but I don't have that kind of relationship with my dad. In envious of yours. I loved reading your stories. They reminded me of my sweet grandpa.
    I see old men in the store and I think of him. Gone before he could meet my babies, who he'd really love.
    Big hugs,

    1. I am sorry about your grandfather elle. The most difficult thing I often find is missing them, and of course not being able to share the kids with them. To see their face as they look at your children.

      I have a hug or two for you as well


  9. You know, Willie, I had a couple of initial thoughts (but like lillie said I don't know what I'm talking about but well...)...looking at your childhood interactions with him around your mom, you were a little jealous of losing that special connection for having to 'share your time' with him with your mom.

    Maybe that's your way right now of protecting those memories. Maybe you think they won't be pertinent to Barney because he didn't have the privilege of knowing your dad.. But I bet if you shared those memories that are so important to you with him, and the feelings surrounding them, Barney would treasure them as much, and treasure the memory of your dad as much - because those memories and experiences are part of what made you who you are, and he loves you. Maybe he can help you celebrate your dad.

    Another thing lillie said rang are stripping down, losing your walls, and reliving losing your Dad, is making you vulnerable and you are transferring that to Barney imagining what that would feel like...there is a lot of talk of loss this past week in blogland, and I have cried my throat raw...and last night I fell into Ward's arms and said that if I ever lost him there would be nothing left of me...when we have suffered our losses, and we see our friends all around us suffering losses, and we feel for them and our compassion goes on overload and we are raw and laying on the floor and we look at the person we love most in the's natural to fear losing them.

    Sweetie, the fear isn't going to go away by shutting him out. And it may not even go away in his arms, but there is comfort there, and it will become more manageable, and he can give you the reassurance that you need.


    1. Thanks June.

      I share my Dad with Barney, the boys, with anyone who will It is how I keep him with me. In fact Barney as even come inside on a cold winters day and proclaimed

      " Its cold as Hell out there!"

      Barney has lost both of his parents, since we were married. Although his process is different he is empathetic to my 'plight'. We managed to talk about my going it alone this past while. I wasn't able to turn to him this time, but perhaps the next time.

      Thank you for the hugs

  10. Your stories were lovely, particularly the one of the business trip when you were trying to dump your mother to have dad all to yourself.

    I think grieving never ends, the pain becomes less sharp, but it can grab you at the most unexpected times. It's personal and difficult to share. My dad died when I was a similar age and my walls are still there. Other commenters have better advice than I can offer, but I just wanted to offer encouragement.

    1. Welcome Meg!

      My Mom still gets a fit of giggles when she tells the story of us on 'our' business trip. She loves to tell that story ( among many others)

      I knew the grieving never ended, and that was a new state of normal for me years ago. The tailspin that was this week was quite unexpected after all these years.

      I am sorry to hear about your loss as well.


  11. I love your memories Wilma and as much as it hurts I think it is good that you are dealing with these feelings. I think you will feel a burden being lifted as you process. I think you need to let Barney comfort you. Stop being so dang stubborn woman and let your man do this with you!
    Even if you need to be alone...don't shut him out.
    Love you, you big hearted, stubborn, sweet, dear friend!

    1. Thanks Bea

      Me stubborn?...well I actually I suppose I should question all the adjectives you used to describe me actually.

      Love you too my delusional friend


  12. Oh Willie, darn it, you made me cry again.

    Such lovely memories of your Dad. I really wish there was more I could say but I don't know what I am talking here either, or what I can add to what has been said by Ian, Lillie and June.

    I can understand you feeling you want/need to do this on your own, but sweetie, please let Barney in, let him be there for you, comfort you and reassure you. He is a safe place to let those emotions go.

    Hang in there sweetie.

    Much, much love and (((HUGS)))

    1. Thanks as always Roz.

      Sorry I made you cry. That certainly wasn't my objective :)

      Much, much love


  13. I loved reading your stories about your Dad Willie. Memories are very important to us - they define who we are a lot of the time.

    It was my Mum I lost when I was much younger. One night, suddenly. Her heart just stopped - and she wasn't there anymore. I remember, like you, going to see her at the undertaker's. My Dad placed a red rose in her hands and kissed her, and I just couldn't. I couldn't because it wasn't my Mum anymore. She had gone from that place. She wasn't there anymore. When my Dad dies a few years after her, more of a broken heart than anything, I didn't go to see him.

    I feel their presence all the time. I sometimes get such a clear picture of them in my mind that it's as if they are just popping in to check up on me. I miss them very much even now.

    As you know, I am an only child. I have no siblings to share memories with. Even though I was an adult with my own family, I hated becoming an orphan. I felt suddenly abandoned.

    You need to share all your feelings with Barney. I know it's difficult and we curl up into ourselves with pain and loss. But he will be more understanding than you think. He will take your pain and help you shape it into something more positive.He will extend his comfort zone so that it encompasses you. He is your rock Willie, so talk to him.

    I echo Roz here, 'Hang in there Sweetie'. Things will be okay.

    Many, many warm bear-hugs, Ami

    1. Oh Ami

      I hate to hear about your pain. Death, even though it is part of life, is such a difficult thing to deal with. The processing of loss is so very complex.

      Thank you for the bear hugs


  14. After reading your sweet comment last night welcoming me, I dropped by to read from your blog. I was blown away! I began a reply but after seeing the length, I moved it to a blog post of my own as it started to become my story not just an expression of my empathy for yours. I hope you'll visit.

    I said a prayer for for comfort and peace!

    Big hugs!!

    1. Welcome Officially Catrinka!

      By now I you know I did visit your blog. You have such a wonderful way of expressing yourself, and I look forward to following you and Alex along!

      Thank you


  15. Beautiful tribute to your father. He certainly was one of the good ones.

    Grieving is so tricky. My dad has been gone for 21 years as well. He was a man of music and even today I can hear a song he would play and find myself with tears streaming down my face. I hope you can share with Barney maybe by showing this post to him. He would understand.

    Take care.

    1. Hi Zoe

      Music is always my undoing. While my father didn't play an instrument, or house was full of music all the time. He was also constantly whistling and singing. Every morning he would sing Danny Boy while he shaved. I still can't hear that song( oops or apparently THINK of that song) without tears.

      Barney did read my post, but not until several days later- due to work.

      Thank you.

  16. TTWD does liberate feelings. Feelings are there to be enjoyed.
    I cannot say much that has not been said above, but please just enjoy your memories of your father.
    My father died 13 years ago and I have zero special Dad-Memories of him. He was not an unkind man, but just never did anything with his sons.
    Your father left you with a lot of good memories.

    1. I do enjoy my memories Bas. More and more the older I get. Each passing year, as I meet more people from different walks of life, I realize how very fortunate I was- AM


  17. This was really good, Wilma! Please keep a copy for each of your boys, of your memories with your Dad. I have a couple of things my parents wrote...they are priceless to me.

    1. Thank you Betsy.

      The boys know these stories, and so many more about my Dad. They most likely can repeat them verbatim :)

  18. Sometimes walls are okay. We need them until we are able to figure out how to proceed.

    We all build walls. We can't be 100% available all of the time, not to anyone.

    Sometimes part of grief is just to accept that it is what it is, we are what we are, and how it happens is what it will be.

    You'll find your way. You'll be strong enough to let Barney back in when you're ready.

    1. Thank you Ana!

      I think you are right. At least for me. Sometimes things can't be exposed- perhaps it is because we are not ready, or it isn't possible.

  19. WOW Willie, thank you for letting us all in to your thoughts. Your memories of your Dad are wonderful and something to cherish.
    You are so right about TTWD and feelings, I found it out as well shortly after we started as well.

    For some reason it brings things out - BUT, I think it's OK for awhile to feel like you want to hide it from Barney. You need time to process why they are just coming to a head.
    Barney was not part of that life or your memories and that could be why you feel no connect right now, but like others have said (and probably by now since I'm so late commenting) you should talk to him.
    You don't have to completely open up either, maybe just mention some things are occupying you mind and you need time to process them or make sense of why you are feeling them right now.
    Sort of give him a heads up maybe.
    Then, you may find that later, you CAN seek comfort in him and let him in.
    I had a loss around the time I met "H" and I never could let him in during my grief.
    I felt like He couldn't understand anything about it since He never knew her, never knew what we were like together and how close and special she was to me.
    I felt alone in my grief and I think maybe you feel a bit like that?
    Only recently, after almost 14 years together, have I started talking about her and things we used to do when we were little.
    Let Barney in a little, you don't have to pour your heart out to him just yet, but I bet he will be there if and when you are ready.
    This will only strengthen your relationship.
    Look how far you guys have already come!

    1. You know Emi you leave such wonderful comments on people's posts.

      Thank you, and a great deal of this applies to us sure. While Barney didn't know my Dad personally, he did know me during my Dad's illness and death. I am not sure what the answer is to this...or if there is one even.

      Thank you for this and your email

  20. I could have sworn I commented on this already, but I may very well be losing my mind. I'm sorry for your loss and for the rough time you are going through. I am happy that you have so many wonderful memories of your dad to hold on to. I'm envious of that kind of closeness with family. I didn't have that. I am happy you have Barney to go to, even if you don't want to. I know the walls are tough to break down sometimes, but they will come down when you are ready. You have so many friends to love you through this rough patch. Good luck sweetie.

    1. Hey Tl

      I've had trouble with blogger lately and comments. So you might not be loosing your mind....but then again *wink*

      I am so sorry you don't have the closeness of family from the past, but you an Bucko are certainly creating several 'closeness' memories now!

      I do have so many wonderful wonderful friends, but FTFF and here in blog land. Something else to be grateful for!


    2. Ooops not just FTFF but here in blog land too