Dear “A Time to Grieve”

Dear “A Time to Grieve”,

So on the first anniversary of my Dad’s death the Times run an article on “grief blogging” and this blog didn’t get a mention- sniff. This blog was set up mostly to help me write out my grief and I reckon some of the following posts have helped me massively:

Dear International Spy Dad,

Dear Ghost Dad,

Dear Tramp in the street,

Dear Funeral,

Dear Grief,

Dear Dad,

Dear Grumpy Dead Dad,

Dear Laughing Dad in my dream

Dear Dad, Its been 6months

Dear Dad, Thankyou for not being David Davis

Dear Bereaved

Dear Dad, Happy Christmas

I don’t think I am very good at grieving. I don’t often let myself cry or be sad and sometimes I feel like a pressure cooker ready to explode but I just can’t give into the grief just incase.

Incase of what I don’t know. Maybe I am scared if I start I will never stop. Instead I delay, distract and disassociate.

Sometimes there is just too much going on in real life to allow time to wallow, time to grieve.

Today I planned to grieve, properly, I honestly did, its the anniversary of losing my dad, its what I am supposed to do right? It hasn’t really happened. We have the builders in so sobbing all day wasn’t going to happen with three strange men in my loft! LordC unexpectedly and wonderfully took the day off work and we mooched into town and had lunch. In honour of my dads heart and my own heart investigations on Monday I ordered a healthy lunch and a glass of Rose he probably would have liked. We meant to go and sit in the Botanic Gardens as dad loved it there but it was raining and we ended up in Poundland instead. Dad also loved it there but that’s not quite the fitting tribute I intended!

I suppose I have blogged somethings that have helped, and right this second instead of taking some time to have a good sob I am writing this post whilst I finish off my dad’s bottle of Christmas Baileys. I suppose that is how I grieve- making new traditions and memories in honour of my dad. although perhaps an annual poundland pilgrimage is a bit much.

The Baileys thing will always be my 31st Jan tradition from now on. Dad always used to buy me a bottle of Christmas Baileys, as he thought I liked it. I didn’t really and often it would still be around the following Christmas. Since he can no longer buy me a bottle of Baileys, I arrange for my brother to carry on the tradition of the Unwanted bottle of Baileys. We made Baileys Tiramisu on Christmas eve and there was just enough Baileys for a glass tonight.

So here’s to you Dad- A time to grieve and sip my Baileys and blog about a time to grieve without actually taking the time to grieve.

Such is life,

or death,

or something,




One response to “Dear “A Time to Grieve”

  1. Ching ching to you, your Dad and the Bailey’s x

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