Sometimes scar tissue hurts more than a fresh wound.
It has now been over a year since my dad passed away. I’ve been back to my parents’ house several times this past year, but this weekend was the most painful, by far. I felt his absence more than any other time.
Maybe the numbness has worn off, because I’m suddenly feeling more grief than I felt during the first month he was gone.
The purpose of this visit was to visit with my mom and to attend a baby shower for my childhood best friend. There were baby shower games, of course, and one of the games was “guess the name of the baby”. There was a monogram for the baby so we knew his initials were BGD.
The first name was guessed pretty quickly, and then the middle name was guessed. As people shouted out guesses, my friend looked at me as my dad’s name was called out. She gave me a smile as I realized what was happening and immediately began to “ugly face cry”. I’m pretty sure my mother was sobbing, too.
The baby’s middle name is Gregory, in honor of my father. We never expected that.
My friend spent a good deal of her adolescence and early adult years with my parents, who have always thought of her as a daughter. I feel so honored that she is showing her affection for my father in such a huge way. My dad would have been so tickled to have someone named after him.
Needless to say, after such an emotional weekend, I was a mess on my three hour drive home. It was a weekend full of strong memories of the incredible man who I was lucky enough to call “Dad”.