Well friends, It’s been a while…longer than I’d like to admit, since I’ve written much of anything. Today has been the first day in a while that I’ve been able to properly gather my thoughts and share them with you all. I have been so preoccupied with life that up until now, I forgot just how much this outlet helps build my spirit and give me purpose…whether it’s writing it in my notes or writing it here, it brings me peace and helps me work through the emotions stirring in my perpetually overactive brain. For those that have been following my blog (and are still hopefully with me), you may remember that I wrote an entry on my stepfather George some time ago. I wrote of his courageous journey through cancer and shared his inspirational blog he kept which detailed his ups and downs through his long battle. It is with great difficulty, and I am so very sad to say, that on January 25, 2018, with myself, my sisters, and mother surrounding him, George passed away. I have grappled with the right way to say this and am still unsure I can ever find the proper words. It remains surreal, and maybe it will for a while. Grief works in mysterious ways, and seems to attach itself to many things. Day-to-day activities, music, and the moments when you are just desperately trying to get through your day without breaking down. Grief remains unseen and without notice. I’ve recently had many moments in inopportune places where I’ve needed to hide and just feel. Confusion, anger, sadness, acceptance…all emotions that I have felt through grieving the loss of someone so important in mine and my family’s life.
All sadness aside, George has left behind a legacy, he created a bucket list foundation for adults who are terminal so that they can have a chance at experiencing a little bit of magic in their life. How amazing is that? While struggling with his own misfortune, he created a foundation that could help others attempt to improve theirs. He shared his beautiful writings with the world through his blog https://colontosemicolon.com and as a result has been an inspiration to others fighting serious illnesses, or for any curious minds who simply wanted a small glimpse into his life. I guess I can’t speak for others but I can say for certain that he changed my life, not to mention introduced me to some pretty kick ass music…and herein lies the reason I began writing this entry in the first place. I was on my way to the grocery store today when a Pink Floyd song came on the radio. Like I said, grief attaches itself to many things, and for me this is primarily music. George introduced me to Pink Floyd in my teen years and so, when this song came on the radio, it really hit me….but it also will forever remind me of him. I suppose it’s kind of special in a way, the fact that a person’s memory can be kept alive through music among many other things.
I have felt George’s presence the last while, the sunsets have been a little brighter, birds have flocked closely and seemingly deliberately and I truly believe that it is him reminding me and others that he is in a better place, eating cake, drinking a glass of laphroaig scotch and playing an intense game of scrabble. I can still hear his infectious laughter as he tells a story of his rebellious younger days or mid conversation with my fiancé who was also an important person in his life. They had a relationship that was so special and for the short period of time that him and I were apart, George reassured him how much he would always mean to him – something my fiancé shared with me recently and something that truly solidified their bond. In many ways they are similar and I believe part of George will always live on through him. When he joined my family he became a stepfather, proudly Grandpa George to my niece and nephew and most importantly, my mom’s soulmate. They shared the truest form of love you could imagine.
Not a day has gone by that I haven’t thought of him, of his bravery, smart wit and sense of humour, his advice, and love for his family. For now, my heart breaks to know that he is no longer in our lives, but I take comfort in knowing that he is no longer in pain, and resting easy where he is meant to be.
In every sunset, in every familiar song, I will think of you ❤
And when great souls die, after a period peace blooms, slowly and always irregularly. Spaces fill with a kind of soothing electric vibration. Our senses, restored, never to be the same, whisper to us. They existed. They existed. We can be. Be and be better. For they existed.” – Maya Angelou