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  1. Memorial weekend will mark the 6 month mark since Dad's death. A bit of an ironic "holiday" this year I think. As we'll be trying to visit all our other families' graves we'll also be getting ready to have Dad's headstone finally put on the grave. That seems to be like a final marker for me at least-so far all that marks his "spot" is a metal butterfly garden stake I put there & the broken sod; sometimes I could drive to that cemetary to visit other graves & pretend his didn't exist so it must not be true, right? I'd thought I was doing Sooo good with this grief stuff, even thinking that I didn't really need the very mild anti depressant the dr. gave me. Nope. Now I am to the point where I am going to look for a counselor. I have developed a lot of anger towards people since some of my closest friends have shown that they're not good dealing with "people like me"-I STILL keep getting told to "quit talking about your Dad, he's dead. Is there anything really to talk about?" by a "close friend" & co-worker I even considered a brother. He even told me since I came back to work the day after the funeral that it couldn't have been that bad if I came back that soon. Maybe I shouldn't have gone back that week but we depend on every dime & hour of my paycheck. I'm dealing with so much stress & issues at work that there is anger from that. Mom's has declined to the point where we are discussing other living options & knowing that in the next few months we will be selling Mom & Dad's house of almost 50 years & moving her & dealing with that. My only daughter gets married next summer & she wanted her Grandpa there so much-that's the one thing she'd ever dreamed of: dancing with Grandpa at her wedding. She & her fiance even went to the grave [how I have come to HATE that word!] & "told Grandpa we have to do this without him". I WANTED MY DAD THERE to see his favorite grand child walk down that aisle. Even as he recovered from his stroke he'd tell me "I know Allie's going to be a bride someday and I'll be there to walk her down to meet that boy.I promise you." My parents helped me raise her until she was 6 & out of all 18 grandchildren she was his favorite. I still cry every night.I relive that whole last week constantly-I am so afraid I'm forgetting the sound of his voice & the touch of his hand. And I'm angry at myself for not knowing my Dad better when he was alive-I'm learning more about him from my siblings, stuff I never even knew about him & I get so mad at myself for not knowing more-why didn't I push him to talk to me more?!! with me he was quiet & would show me things more & tell me he liked just sitting without saying anything why the hell didn't I make him talk? Why was I so d*** selfish to just accept his not talking?!!!!! I was his last daughter-I should have done more!!!! I don't tell my husband any of this-he has to listen enough to my venting about my job & dealing with Mom's situation. This is MY pain. I just want him back. I want my Mom back to before the dementia invaded her body. I want to hold his hand one more time. And I thought all this grief stuff would be over by now.
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