Collaborative post with @the.motherless.mum
I’ve had ten years to process my grief. Ten years to come to terms with the injustice of MND cruelly taking my dad. Ten years for the rawness to subside. Ten years where the anger has tempered.
I read a post today on Instagram from @the.motherless.mum that made me think about how those ten years have also quieted me. “I will always keep talking about you. You deserve to be remembered” – was the quote Sarah had reposted from @spokengrief
Soon after we lost him, I found myself telling all and sundry about the man Peter Chappell was. I wanted everyone to know his name, know his kindness, his vitality. I ran races emblazoned with the MND Association and raised money despite my feeling of hatred for the disease. All allowed me to post about him, to talk about him and to keep his name alive.
But when I read Sarah’s quote, I questioned how often these days I speak his name. How often has Harry heard me talk about him? Why is there only one photo of him in my home? When did I go from thinking about him all the time to just here and there when something sparks his memory?
Does that mean I love him less?
I have decided to view it as a positive. That the grief has lost its vehement edge. He can be missed without the violent rage and injustice. The storm that is grief has calmed.
Although I don’t speak his name every day and some days go by where he doesn’t pop in to my thoughts, he is still part of our lives.
His smile is reflected in Harry. His impatience in me! His nature in the both of us.
But despite the accuracy of the adage, that time is a healer, I owe it to Dad to speak his name. I owe it to Harry to know his Grandad Pete; his face, his stories and the man that made me, well… me. So that’s my promise Dad. You will be known. And you will always be loved. Even with your questionable taste in progressive rock music!