“I’ll skip lunch and just keep going for another hour or so. I need to get this done.”
Three weeks ago I was experiencing what I refer to as overload. Everything was getting on top of me and I was overwhelmed. Even the joys of writing my blog got too much. It was no longer enjoyable, just another chore to add to the list of unending chores. Exhausted and stressed, my productivity levels were grinding to a halt. I was tearful, fed-up and plain old down-in-the-dumps. As is usual I sought comfort in naughtiness: fast-food, wine, TV and pointless scrolling through social media.
Driving home from work one evening I just dissolved in a flood of tears and all I could think about was my Dad. I miss him so much and I don’t want him to be dead. That’s the bottom line and then it occurred to me that all my day-to-day stresses were actually connected to my grief. I noticed that in trying to cope, I was actually suppressing all my feelings of sadness about my Dad and I don’t think it was doing me any good. It might sound a little odd, but I figured that perhaps I needed to go and spend some time with my Dad.
So I decided to actively put aside some special time for my Dad and it was just what I needed. I made up a flask of tea and collected together some Dad things. These included: my collages and photos of Dad, a compilation of music tracks that Dad loved and my Dad blanket. Armed will all my Dad items I headed outdoors to a large rock that’s just down a quiet pathway from my home. I call the rock “Dad’s Rock” and it’s kind of my place for spending time with Dad.
It’s there that I took some time to be with my Dad. I let my memories come and I let those tears flow. I drank tea and I thought about my Dad. I listened to classical music and watched birds glide across the sky. I looked through my special book of Dad memories and I thought about the joy of having such an awesome Dad in my life. As the sun began to set I found a great deal of comfort was to be had in spending time with Dad. Although he has gone in one sense, I found that taking the time to let him in made him ever so present. It also felt as though he was giving me some Dad advice.
“Life is short. Take a break. Enjoy yourself.”