One year later.

So it has been just over a year since Dad transitioned.  I like the word "transition" because then I can imagine that he is still around, but has just moved on over to another dimension, that unfortunately, humans with their 5 senses can't detect.

I hadn't wanted to post anything on this blog since he passed, because 1) I didn't have the heart and 2) no one except me really reads it anyway, so who cares?  When you lose someone, things you previously cared about lose purpose and meaning.

A lot of things happened during the year after he passed.  I was transferred to a new job, my friend Carol transitioned too, I took a trip out to the grand canyon, got married to my soulmate, and my new brother-in-law is now fighting a very rare cancer.  It really floors me that I have now known two people with very rare cancer.  Carol, with her rhabdomyosarcoma which killed her at 60 years old, and my brother-in-law who has cancer of the duodenum.  It is so rare that hardly anyone knows how to treat it, and there has been virtually no studies of it.

Through it all, I never stop thinking about my Dad.  I have been able to put up some pictures of him, but I still cannot look at them directly for too long.  It is still too painful.  I contacted a couple of psychics to see if they could contact him, and I got mixed results.  Some of what they said was quite incredible, and some wasn't.  It still doesn't convince my scientific mind that he is really ok wherever he is.  I am going to practically need him to materialize in front of me, for me to fully believe.

And I still have to go through his belongings.  I can't do it just yet; so it just sits in our upstairs spare room until I can work up the courage.  All this stuff was so important to him; I don't know what to keep and what to throw or give away.  But I hope that it doesn't matter to him anymore.  After all, he can't take any of it where he went.

And as my husband and I are preparing to move in the next few years, I think of all the stuff we have that we need to get rid of; who would ever want it?  But how can I part with my Dad's stuff, when that is all I have left of him.