As a child, I remember lying in bed at night with two fears:
Fear #1, “There’s a monster under my bed.”
Of course, no monsters.
More like a few monsters ‘in’ my bed as I got older (wink) but that’s for another day.
Fear #2 was, G-d forbid, I would lose one of my parents.
As I shared these very real fears with them, while also attempting to delay bedtime, they always reassured me that it would not become a reality.
And, thankfully, neither did…
The unthinkable has occurred.
My father passed away.
And the death of my father, in no uncertain terms, has leveled my life. A paralyzing loss like no other.
With his passing, I have put everything completely on hold and have chosen to take the time to truly grieve
my hero, my first love, and the core of my very being.
As may of my readers have learned through the years, my father was a Holocaust survivor and the source of so much of the wisdom and so many of the quotes in my writings.
While I see myself as proficient in the advocacy of having the strength to move forward in life through the ups and downs and ins and outs of love, relationships, break-ups, divorces; that experience wasn’t nearly enough to help me through the initial pain of my grief.
Before my father passed away, finding the humor, insight, and strength to put one foot in front of the other throughout life’s obstacles was something I always found possible.
I’ve been through a lot in my life, but have never experienced this feeling of raw, immeasurable grief.
This is so much different than the pain of a broken relationship, a divorce, or any other disappointment we may encounter in our daily lives.
What I have sadly come to learn is there is no comparison between grief and pain. It’s like comparing a paper cut to a gunshot wound.
Initially, what began as just getting through minute by minute, then hour by hour, has now grown into day by day.
And as each day passes, I can see a little more of my old self returning.
Despite my immeasurable grief, I’m going to continue to write for both my father and myself. I know that is what he would have wanted — insisted on — because he loved my blog.
He was so incredibly proud of my writing career. I can clearly picture him each and every time he read my work and the joy in his reaction and comments.
Therefore, in his memory, I will once again draw from his strength and continue on with my life, because after all is said and done …
I am my father’s daughter.
I will continue to pass on his incredible legacy the best way I know how and share his insight, his wisdom and his love.
Today is about getting back on the horse and creating my new normal. Today and every day moving forward is about honoring the extraordinary memory of the greatest man I will have ever had the pleasure to know; the man that showed me the purest, most unconditional love I will ever feel (other than my children) in my life.
This post is a tribute to him.
My father, Samuel Katz, a man that had a gift for impacting the lives of every single person that crossed his path. A man that was so respected, so adored, and so beyond loved, and the man I’m proud and supremely blessed to have called “Dad.”
I feel good about resuming my writing, sharing my insight, and continuing to make my father proud through, “The Relationship Realist.”
I appreciate all the understanding, support, and kind words through my most difficult time.
“And to my beloved father, there will never be a day that goes by, for the rest of my entire life, that I will not miss you or love you until the end of time.”
Samuel Katz: A Courageous Life Article