Mike and I started talking a few years ago when I reached out to him curious about the other person responsible for my creation. Lately he has taken an interest in being an active participant in my life and is making the effort to get to know me.
My intention with this entry is not to showcase Mike, but to vent the feelings I had following lunch with him yesterday. Yesterday was a hard day. I can't seem to say that enough. I know the first holiday after a divorce is difficult, but this may be the hardest part of yesterday for me. I met Mike for lunch on Yom Kippur. I know, I should have been fasting... bad Jew! But it was the only time we could meet before he left for a three week trip to Italy and he really wanted to see me before he left. We met for a late lunch at a cute cafe and had a wonderful time catching up, telling stories of who we were in the past, laughing and smiling. It was a very pleasant afternoon. He made it very clear that he wanted to be a part of my life and get involved. I should be happy.
But I left feeling deeply saddened by the fact that it was lunch with my biological father instead of my dad who raised me, was my best friend, and was not here with me anymore. I felt a stabbing pain in my heart that I haven't felt in a very long time. I felt the void of him being gone ripping me apart and reminding me that the one person I want to be there for me throughout this period of transition in my life is just not able to. I was again very aware of his absence and my heart hurt so much. Driving home over Laurel Canyon I could hardly catch my breath. I couldn't stop the tears and couldn't get past the emptiness. I was back to where I was 11 years ago; angry that he is gone too soon and asking why this had to happen.
The whole weekend has been very emotional. I make light of a lot of things and diffuse uncomfortable situations with humor in order to deflect any real emotion if its something I don't want to feel. Going to temple was something important to my father and so I went in his honor. The Kol Nidre service starting Yom Kippur was a service he and I used to attend together. It was tradition and I promised to continue that. So I went. But it was not without bringing up emotions that I haven't felt in years and left me sleepless and saddened, saying into the darkness of my bedroom at 1:30 in the morning "I'm sorry that you didn't get the chance to see me as a woman. I'm sorry you didn't get to see me truly happy. I'm sorry you are not here."
I try not to talk about him too much and try not to be that girl that walks around with a chip on her shoulder; that girl who everyone is afraid to talk about their parents around in fear that it will make me feel bad that I am missing one of my own. I don't want to seem broken or damaged because I am not. I am just hurt and I am surviving and throughout all this I have come to realize the grieving process never ends. It gets easier to maintain and to process emotions, but you are always grieving the loss if it is a love so great and so important that living life without them is not the same.
I am lucky that my biological father wants to be in my life and look forward to years of getting to know one another. But I am sad at the same time that my father who could not see how much of an impact he made on my life and how his imprint will be with me forever. I can only live in his honor and be the best person I can and hope that his spirit is out there somewhere, watching me with a smile on his face.
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