today, 5 years ago, my father died.

✎ Published: 2006-03-16 10:30:30

A year is made up of 365 days, yet some memories linger vividly. The day my father died remains etched in my mind, filled with overwhelming emotions. In the aftermath, I struggled to process my grief while taking on responsibilities he once held. Five years later, I reflect on his absence, recognizing the lasting impact he has through memories and his legacy.

today, 5 years ago, my father died.

A year consists out of 365 days. If I were to say what I've been doing, 142 days ago, I couldn't say. Our memory doesn't save detailed chronological data but mere events or experiences. But if I were to say what I did on the 16th of March 2001, I could explain it in such a great depth of detail that it would feel as close as yesterday.
On that day, suddenly and out of nowhere, my dad died due to a heart-attack.
I still can smell the fresh taste of the arriving spring in the air, I still can see the medics standing in our house, I still can hear my crying mom lying on the couch having been given drugs so she could relax.

Abrupt incidents, especially if around the topic of death and disease, hit extraordinary hard; there's no time to get used to the situation, there's no time to say goodbye, there's no time to ask those questions one can never ask again, there's no time to process the incidents.
And thus, there was no time.
When I reached home I was left with the dead body of my father; I talked to him, I kissed him, I cried, I hoped he would all of a sudden open his eyes again, coming back to life, I thought I'd feel his presence. But in the end I was all alone, confused, broken and hopeless.
There are so many things I'd like to ask my dad now.
There are so many things I'd like to tell my dad now.
There are so many things I'd like to do with my dad now.
And yes, if I see other people of my age go to an event with their dads, or getting help from their dads, or just talking about their family, I can't but feel a bit envious.

The times after fathers death were quite tough, I fell into a box of cold water and had to mature as fast as possible; suddenly being left alone with my mom and my grandma, I needed to take care of all these tasks which were previously fathers tasks. Those days were so tough and busy that I had to lock my sadness inside, keep it calm until I would find the free time I needed to process them.
But this free time never came. And during the first 4 years, I wasn't able to process these inputs, I could never really sorrow after my dad.

Now, 5 years later, I miss my dad, I feel that there is so much I could have gained from him. But this void in me needs to stay, reminiscenting me of him. However, I can talk about it now. I can write on this blog about it now. I can accept the situation now. Buddha said that 'Life is Pain', and maybe he is right in that pain is a vital part of our existence. I think I understood.
With the advent of the fifth year of his death, I also arrived at a point in my life which calls for changes. In the coming months, the life which I lived during the past 5 years, will change. Quite. I'm looking forward to this. I am to close a chapter.

In germany it's common to write a special phrase onto a card which is then being handed out to every visitor of the funeral. One usually tries to find a phrase which is religious and/or fits the situation/lost one very well.
We wrote the following lines onto my dad's funeral-card:

"No one is finally dead until the ripples they cause in the world die away - until the clock he wound up winds down, until the wine he made has finished it's ferment, until the crop they planted is harvested. The span of someone's life, is only the core of their actual existence"

And thus, although my dad died, he continues to exist - through his lifework, through memories, and - through me.