It was all of the things I didn't get to say....*warning heavy post*

...that held my grief for so long.


29th of August is my dear Fathers memorial day.

17 years.

He was 50 years old.

I was 20 years old.

I remember the exact moment the phone call came.

I can picture the room exactly as it was.

Possum was 15 months old and sitting in his high chair eating toast.
I had soup on the stove for lunch.
The toaster had just popped up again.

The phone rings - Dads friend - how strange, they ask to speak with Big A.

He had to give me the news.
He said it's possibly one of the hardest things he's ever had to do in his life.

A sudden massive heart attack took his life unexpectedly - he died within 20 minutes - he didn't even make it inside the hospital - the doctors worked on him in the driveway of the hospital.

No warning.
No chance to say all of the things I would want to say.
No opportunity to discuss his wishes.

I never got to say goodbye.

My first instinct was to call Mum.
Even though they had been separated for almost 4 years.

It seemed like forever before she arrived to pick up Possum.

I was needed at the hospital.

I will never forget that room either.

His shirt was in tatters - it had to be cut for access to his chest.
He still had tubes all over him and down his throat.
His face was blue.

But he was still there - in that room.

I was in complete shock.

His hand was still warm.

I wanted to scream at him to wake up.

I didn't.

Everything was a blur......like a terrible nightmare you can't wake up from.

We went to Dad's house to stay for a night or two.

I needed to be there.

Home.

The house I grew up in.

The house felt alive and warm still.

His girlfriend had been living there a few months.

She seemed o.k. I guess.

I took one of his jumpers from his drawer - one that Mum had knitted for him.
Little did I know at the time that it would be the last item of his clothing I would handle.

The next few days were a blur.

Phone calls, visitors, trying to function, funeral arrangements....refusing to eat.

We went to the funeral home.
I decided I should go to the viewing, I thought it may be 'better' - the hospital was so traumatic.
How wrong I was.
I will say he looked about 20 years younger - but unnatural I thought at the time.
On reflection it was that he wasn't there.
His body was - he wasn't.

He was dressed in what I requested - the suit he had worn to Possums christening a few months earlier - oh and of course they should not forget to put his teeth in - he wouldn't like to be out without his teeth :)

Two weeks later my Great Grandmother passed away at the age of 98.
Some say it was the shock (and she felt guilty that she was still alive at 98)......
I couldn't even go to her funeral.

Two weeks later I receive a phone call from Dad's girlfriend (of 18 months).
Precisely 28 days after he died - in Australia nothing can legally be done with an estate for 28 days.
She says - 'I am entitled to half of everything - but I will be happy with 1/3'
And my world fell apart for the second time.

How could someone do that? How could she even be thinking of money????
Her son is a famous AFL football player (and still commentates - he's worth a fortune) and she wants 1/3 of my Dad's estate? She's only been living there a few months...surely not.
I hadn't given it a single thought.

This is a very long story, a legal battle that went on for nearly 2 years.
My brother and I were executors of Dad's estate - he changed his will when Mum left, but not after their divorce went through.
It was considered 'intestate'.
My brother is a few years older than me - but he wasn't up to handling it all.
If he was on his own she would have taken him for the lot.

We were engaged to be married on my 21st birthday.

4 months later and Dads girlfriend was seen hanging out at singles nights - trying to pick up another one no doubt.

Part of the estate was able to be released.
We bought a block of land and started built our first home.


I fell pregnant.

I had a miscarriage.

I was suffering with so much grief - and yet trying to hold it together for Possum - and to fight the battle.

I refused to give in - his girlfriend was offered a fair figure (more than she should have received) and lived in Dad's house without paying a cent, we paid the phone and electricity and rates bills for the entire time she was there (almost 2 years).
She tried to counter offer for more. I point blank refused. She eventually accepted.

By the time we got back into his house (we had to get a county sheriff to issue her with a notice) aside from the list of things we drew up that she had to leave - everything else was gone.
All of his clothes - GONE - personal items - GONE.
She had even taken photos of ours that were none of her business.

The house was cold and bleak.
It wasn't 'home' any more.
He wasn't there any more.
And the place was filthy.
Disgusting bitch put on a great show while he was alive.
It is as close as I have ever come to hating anyone in my life.

By this time I was 4 months pregnant with Small Man.
We went to do some cleaning at the house and I had some spotting.
I had planned on doing some painting and tidying up the garden etc.
We had even considered living in the house for a few months.
I couldn't do it.
I felt cold, stressed and afraid being in the house alone.
We did as much as we could, at least the house was clean, and we sold it.

Every step along the way was heartbreaking.
Not to mention getting through all of the 'firsts'.
Fathers Day was very close.
birthdays, our first Christmas without him, birth of his second grandson....and the worst one...our wedding.
We put it off for 4 years and married in April 1996- I simply couldn't face the thought of walking down the aisle without him. I know he was walking down with me though.......

My grief was so profound I was still getting up through the night crying years later.
I would say it took a good ten years for me to let go.
On reflection I think it was a combination of the sudden unexpected loss, being unable to grieve properly or go through the 'normal' motions when someone so close dies.

So tomorrow I remember my Dad - the good and warm memories - none of the things I have written here.

I'm pleased I was finally able to write this all out.

G
xxx