This is My House, This is My Home

Yesterday I got back from a trip home. Although I love going home and always have a great time, there is a feeling of bittersweetness when I do now. Even last weekend I expected Shemp to run up to meet me at the door and for Dad to be sitting in his recliner. It's hard when I settle in and realize how quiet the house is now. It just feels different. The first few times I went home since Dad died I didn't notice it as dramatically. Maybe my head wasn't in the right place, or maybe it just seemed like one of the times I went home and he was in the hospital. This time, however, was noticeable for some reason.
At the same time I still feel his presence. The house is still comforting and filled with more love than any house I've ever stepped foot in. It still has that same calming effect it always had, the one that made Allison come for a week in the summer and then decide to stay until the fall.
When mom went to bed and Joe wasn't home from work yet, it seemed like there were two different forces present. It was quiet, but not lonely. Even if I couldn't ignore the fact that Dad and Shemp were not there, I could still feel the comforting love that always occupied that house.
Like most things in my life now, it left me with conflicting feelings of joy and sadness. Now, if I could just focus more on the joy we'd be in good shape.

Reassurance

It's been awhile since I've blogged. I think that's because I've been confused and trying to avoid my feelings, which I know can't be done. The last few months have been one milestone after the other. The first Christmas, the first NFL playoffs, the first competitive basketball games. And it's not going to get easier when the weather gets nicer either. The first NBA playoffs, the first round of golf, the first Easter, and my first steps towards grad school. All are moments that I shared with him constantly, and have to do without him this year.
Although I have been feeling better at times today. Last night I met with a really nice woman named Maude, who is part of the Bereavement Group at Montgomery County Hospice. We talked about dad for a little bit. It felt really good to describe him to someone who never met him. It was more than relief to talk about him, I actually felt pride. It was like I was showing off what a great man he was. Just talking (almost bragging) about him put a smile on my face (although with tears in my eyes) and made me focus on the great relationship we had.  Then she started talking about grief and gave me some literature describing it. I knew what I was feeling wasn't entirely strange, but it was good to hear that a lot of my emotions were completely normal for my situation. I shouldn't be worried about my lack of focus at work, my random mood swings, or my loss of interest in certain things. It's reassuring to know that these emotions are normal and will pass, although I'm not sure when. Right now, I just have to continue the process and attack the firsts one at a time.