My dad died three years ago yesterday. I realized this as I was writing my blog, that it was February 13, and it was the anniversary of my dad's death. I feel so sad and I've been up and down all day. It didn't help that I had my counseling appointment this afternoon.
We're doing some adult attachment thingy in my individual counseling, where we're trying to find out how attached I was to my parents when I was growing up. The way this is done is the interviewer asks questions about the childhood to evoke those memories and feelings, and then the interviewer asks for five adjectives each that describe the mother and father and justifications for each adjective. From there the interviewer should be able to figure out whether there were attachment problems.
Going back to my early childhood (what I remember of it) isn't easy. My dad drank heavily until I was in my teens and my mom was left taking care of three little kids. Those three little kids - my sisters and I - ended up a bit neglected and wanting attention. Remembering all of this as well as some of the things I did when I was growing up was really hard. As an adult looking back, I can see and understand how hard it was for my parents but that little girl I became this afternoon didn't understand that.
Things were bad when I was growing up but they got better as I got older. I had a relationship with my parents and I got to know them as people, not just as my parents. And because my parents were so close to my thoughts, my dad's death feels like it happened just yesterday. I miss him so very much. I wish he was still here.
Even though today's counseling session was hard, it's worthwhile. Knowing where I've come from instead of ignoring it is a good thing. I just wish my daddy was here to see me. I hope that wherever he is, he's content.