I used to write a lot more humorous stuff. My old blog, Mummy Mayhem, was filled with stories of parenting-gone-wrong, light-hearted, giggle-worthy stuff.
I haven't felt much like writing that stuff lately. I know what I write now is almost too serious. It's not the stuff people really want to read from me, because I was the one who wrote the funny stuff, you know? At the moment, writing the funny stuff feels ... forced. It's just not me at the moment. (Then again, I never did start this site for anyone else other than me. This is my space, and I'll continue to use it how I see fit.) Nevertheless, even though being funny is a big part of my life - I'm always the joker - I can't seem to get motivated to write funny.
I think it has something to do with Dad's death last year. The first six months after he died, it felt like I was living under a huge fog. I just felt so sad. To be honest, it was an unexpected sadness in a way, because it's not like Dad was fit and healthy and in his forties when he died last year. He was in his mid-eighties and crippled by dementia, just getting by day to day. But he'd lived a full life for almost all of those years before his dementia took over for the last few.
I guess I wrestle almost daily with the guilt that for a good portion of the latter years of my dad's life, I lived on the other side of the country and saw him just occasionally. As I wrote in my last post, there are days I feel like I've robbed my parents of another daughter ('another daughter' meaning in addition to my sister, Valda, who died in 1971). I know my parents supported - fully - my decision to move to Sydney back in December 1995 with Mr A, and recognised how happy I became living here. However, I also know, being a parent myself, that not having your children around would be difficult. So unimaginably difficult, but it's how life goes. Both of my parents left their hometowns to live in Perth many moons ago, so they got it/get it.
After the six month mark following Dad's death, I felt the fog begin to lift a bit. Certainly, now, the sadness is not as present as it was. It will always be there, of course, but at least now I can go days and days - sometimes weeks - before feeling low. Certain situations trigger the sadness: A friend's father experiencing a similar health situation my dad did in his last couple of years of life; a sad television show. Like Offspring. I watched that show for the first time the other night and decided, although very good, I couldn't watch it ever again. It was too sad watching a wife trying to live her life now that her husband is dead. That longing just to see him one more time ...
But it's getting better. It is. I'm feeling uplifted more days than not now, so I know my heart is mending. It will never forget, but it is mending.
The funny will return some day. Soon, I hope.