Deep breaths. This is a hard one for me to talk about. One could argue, “then why the hell are you writing about it on here?” It is that very reason, that I don’t NEED to write about this on here, that has delayed me writing about it. In addition, it has been living inside of me, growing. This is my outlet. This is my therapeutic outlet. The reason I started this journey has many faces and one of them is to help me deal with the loss of my mother. I’ve now come full circle to this moment and here it is.

My family is a blended family. Blended families, in my opinion, are just as strong as those non blended ones. My Mama had 2 children (I’m one of those) and my Stepdad had 2 children. Then together, they had one. To put it into chronological order, I’m number 4 of the 5–and there is a 10-year gap between myself and the shared offspring (she will get a kick out of reading that). This age gap is significant with this situation because I was the only one at home, along with the shared offspring, while the others were older and out of house or one was living with my father.

To say that I have a strained relationship with my father, is putting it nicely. I won’t get into reasons on here, but it has been strained since I was basically born. When my parents split when I was 8, I was my mother’s shadow and did not wish to be with my dad over her. When my Stepdad came into the picture, a majority of my fatherly guidance was provided by him. I can’t remember the age where I started to consider him my father, but I know it came fairly early. I loved him like a father, because he was more fair, loving and honest than my real father. The term Stepdad did not apply to him. At least for me.

Let’s fast forward to when Mom transitioned, he was devastated. As one should be, losing your spouse is a horrible situation that you do not want to endure, nor do you envy someone who is experiencing it. It was my first time losing a parent and I still don’t know how to deal with it. Judging someone for how they grieve, how they handle a loss like that, is not something that should be done. I know it’s a cliche, but everyone’s journey is their own. Leave the judgement at the door.

It comes to a point, however, that when you are a family, you do or should experience the loss together. Somehow, and I don’t know where or why I feel this way, but talking about the loss solidifies it. You find your new normal within the family dynamic. I can say with 1000% certainty, that I have done this with my brother and my sister. We have worked to grieve together (some more than others), but we have tried. It’s a daily process, to be honest. Mom would be proud and happy with how hard we are working at this, but then be guilty that she caused it.

The one person that isn’t a part of this, is my stepdad. The one I love like my father. Not just from me, but also from my sister. To leave her out of this, I will just reflect on my feelings and thoughts.

He has gone to and leaned on his other kids and his family to help him grieve. I am NOT upset about it, that he DOES have support. I LOVE HIM TOO MUCH to not be upset about this. But he is almost gone from my life. He is not part of my grieving process and will not allow me to be a part of his. To be honest, I cannot tell you which hurts the most. Am I being selfish, absolutely. I do not deny this. There has been a lot of thinking on this, let me tell you. The questions come up, “Does he not love me? Did he ever love me? Was it all just for Mom? Does he miss me? Does he not trust me?”

I’m not naive about this whole thing and from someone reading from the outside, one might tell me to get over myself. Sure, I’ve been on that path also. This is my journey, not his, and I need to do what I need to do for ME. So does he.

For the first year after Mom, I didn’t challenge anything. I let it be. I didn’t say anything, I didn’t bring anything up. I never had the questions in my head. Whenever we would speak, it would be such a short conversation, that I didn’t really comprehend anything. I didn’t think, “Oh, something is up with him.” Quite the opposite, it was, “He lost the love of his life, and he needs to figure out a way to grieve that works for him.”

But here we are, almost a year and a half later, and I’m wanting to get some answers. I’m wanting to be a little selfish. I’ve tried to ask him questions before, but I was always shot down by him, in some way or another. I’m wanting to ask some questions of him, but I am also fucking terrified of the answers I’m going to get. I want to ask him about the ring Mom wanted me to have that has gone missing. I want to ask him if I can have some of her ashes so I can make a necklace. Why have all the pictures of Mom been removed from his home? I want to know what our relationship will look like in the future…can I visit him on a regular basis and what does that look like? Why does he always keep our phone calls to 5 minutes when I call him, and he NEVER calls me?

I feel like I lost 2 parents when Mom transitioned. I was around him and my Mom quite a bit in the 3 years leading up to her leaving us. I miss him just like I miss Mom. I know that I have been working on this in therapy and I’m still not at the point where I can get answers. Hopefully soon, I will do so and will be able to update on it on here.