You Are Gold

sweater: H&M - trousers: River Island - loafers: Sacha

So, not to drop a bomb on you guys or anything, but this is the outfit I wore the day after my dad died. It sounds strange to say this in an outfitpost, but when I look at these pictures all I can think of is what I was feeling when I pushed the remote. It seems only logical that I share those feelings with you. Now that his remains have been cremated a few days ago, I feel like I've created enough distance to talk or at least tell people what's up. As you might know, this has been going on for a while: my dad had a stroke about 5 years ago, and after recovering amazingly from the damage that was done to him both physically and mentally, he suffered another major stroke last summer that very nearly killed him. 

Since then he had been slowly recovering, but a few weeks ago my father suffered a relapse. This, in combination with a lifetime of struggling to find whatever he was looking for (redemption? love? a higher meaning? his calling?)that often caused him to suffer emotionally, left him tired of fighting. Two weeks ago I was told my father wanted to end his life. Euthanasia is legal in Belgium. I had ten minutes to say goodbye. To make up for the life ahead of me that would be lived without him. To try and take away the feelings of guilt for not being perfect. To give him some peace. To mend all the broken ends that were left out to fray. Talk about Mission Impossible.

One week ago, me and my siblings lost our daddy. I feel like the pain is dulled a bit by the fact that I was prepared for this to happen because of his second stroke last year. Maybe it's all just happened too fast to really assess the impact it will be having on me. My heart is breaking for my father, for how this life had to end, for him not being able to reach whatever it was he wanted to reach. Life is what happens to you while you're making other plans, right? My father was never completely happy, always urging himself and others to be a better person. Was I good enough? Did he feel good enough? This is something I will have to deal with myself now.

Currently, my emotions are all over the place. I'm about to conclude my master's year at Uni so I'm stressing over deadlines for my thesis, but at the same time I just don't care as much. One moment I'm hyper emotional, crying myself to sleep, the next moment I feel normal and happy, and every second in between I just feel numb. It's not like my dad was torn away by some sudden car crash, we had time to prepare. Death is inevitable, the conclusion of life, but are we ever ready to deal? I'm feeling as if I've been dropped off somewhere slightly familiar, but lost without a map or a guiding light.

I'll pull through though, everyone loses their parents at a certain point in their lives. It's ironic that as a kid I used to have recurring nightmares of losing my father. He used to sit me on his lap and tell me he wasn't about to leave, he'd assure me he'd easily reach the ripe old age of 120. Of course I knew that wasn't realistic, but still his words soothed my worries. He didn't even make it halfway, and now all I have left for the next half is memories. Some of them beautiful, some of them not so much. But that's reality, and I don't hold it against him.

I don't believe in heaven or an afterlife, but I hope my dad felt peace in the moments before his passing. Life isn't perfect, but it's the only thing we have.