Christmastime - Personal Post
This Christmas has been really rough. This is actually the first Christmas without my Father. My Dad died on August 7th of this year (2015) - a beautiful and sunny Friday Morning - around 6am. His death certificate says he died at the Williamsport Hospital, but truth be told - he died at work. He died alone, without his family. He had a heartattack . . . Sometimes I wonder if he knew what was happening. I wonder if he sank to the floor knowing that no one would find him in time. Was he sad? I struggle now spiritually - for I blame God for stealing my Dad away from me. He might have taken my Dad to a beautiful, new world - but he took him away from me during a time when his family needed him.
Is that how death really is? You're here one minute and then you're not? It just doesn't seem fair. But then again, my life is hardly fair. the things that I could tell... how this girl who dreamed of love and happiness .. kinda fell short in many ways. My life is full of one heartache, followed by the other. But it would seem that happens with everyone. (I'm not different in the grand scheme of things.)
My Dad's name is Paul P. Gadoury. He was 57 years old when he died. He had these wonderful, big hugs, and a laugh that could fill a room - sometimes when I'm quiet and alone I can hear it. I hear his voice in my dreams sometimes, and it makes me sad to know I'll never hear it again in this life. It's hard to accept that you have to wait your WHOLE life until you can see the person again.
My sadness is great and vast - like a big, rolling sea - always experiencing a storm. There will never be a peaceful time for me again. What is peace when your heart twists each morning, each moment you think of a name, think of a memory - a time, or reality.
For those readers of mine who have experienced loss - please know you're not alone. Sometimes, that alone brings me comfort. To know I am not alone. I know how isolating death and grief can make you feel.
There are people who care.