Words Cannot Speak

I have so much and so little to say. I feel so much while feeling so little. I am busy each moment of the day while full of nothing to do. I have been going through the motions without even allowing myself to consider what those motions are — purposefully. Grief is weird, and it is always different. Different with each loss, but also different with each day.

We are about six weeks of living on a planet that’s not graced with my dad’s enthusiasm for living and loving. We have survived the initial shock and grievances as we move into a new normal. Again. Finding a new normal once more, I did not think this would be happening so soon. I just wrote about a new normal with hospice as we adjusted to that. When my dad first passed away, I was extraordinarily overwhelmed by the love and support I received. There was so much happening all the time from out-of-town visitors to constant meetings that I did not have time to realize the magnitude of my loss. Returning to an empty home each day was distressing, but it was more like he was just on vacation.

As things have settled down, I wake up during the middle of the night and I cannot hear his loud TV down the hall. I don’t have to quietly sneak in to turn it off. His snoring doesn’t blare through the wall. His wave doesn’t pass my open door after trips to the bathroom. There is no knock when he needs something, be it a smile or the remote. What is left is a simple nothing. What is left is the realization that he turned his TV off for the last time, he snored his last “Hong Kong” snore, he waved his last wave, he knocked his last knock. It is when I wake up at three o’clock in the morning that I realize the magnitude of forever.

There have been some days that I tell myself I will write, and most of those days I do. I love to write, but the truth is that words mean so little to a heart that feels so much. It is a paradox as my heart has always deeply believed in the power of words as a mechanism of healing and growth. I guess I have matured in realizing no combination of words we create will bring my dad back. While words give us the beautiful gift to write of him and his many stories and this is uniquely heartwarming, they cannot wrap his loving arms around me for that most comforting hug. They can tell of his “Hong Kong” snore, but they cannot create that hilarious sound. They can share his wisdom, but they cannot mimic his assured tone. Words are amazingly powerful, but they cannot speak.


All my love to my strong, empowering mom who is carrying me through. Strength for the Journey.

One thought on “Words Cannot Speak

  1. Most of us if honest to ourselves and others continually take this precious gift of life for granted….over and over before we too are also just a memory to someone special. And tho years will pass…people will grow up Marry Become parents..,,, that raw sharp knife of the passing of someone we truly love never leaves us The cruelness of that one experience in this life does and will always confound the mind. When 10,20 even 30 years pass it will still be the same Those of us blessed with an ‘outlet’ to express our feelings be it thru writing,singing,playing a musical instrument are fortunate because it’s there where we can help others When we can articulate our raw emotions into words we WILL help others. And that Danielle is where ‘your gifts’ truly lie Everytime You pick up a pen share a thought or even struggle for words your helping someone And for that I truly Thank You It’s just when I’ve concluded ‘my’ own petspective pertaining to My own life is concrete I will read your blogs and come away with a smile and a desire to look at everything in s new way 😘Keep sharing!!

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