Healing?

I had my mom over for dinner last night. It felt strangely normal for once having her come alone. I didn't even expect my dad to follow her through the door for once. My mom brought a jacket of my dad's for Jason - but it was too small. I told my mom I wanted it. I would wear it. I just sat there and smelled the jacket. I almost don't want to wear it because I don't want it to lose the scent of my dad.

The coat is hanging in our front coat closet, but oddly enough I kept smelling my dad in my closet in the bedroom this morning. I would walk in and instantly smell him. His smell is almost intoxicating to me. I just inhale as deeply as I can.

My dad would have loved the awesome lasagna and the vanilla cheescake I made yesterday. I guess in some strange way, I made it for him, but fed it to my mom. I have so many wierd associations that remind me of my dad and his last months alive. One example is the lasagna thing. He hated lasagna his whole life! Then when he started his chemo, his tastes changes so much, and all he wanted was lasagna or noodles with some kind of tomatoe sauce.

Or big juicy burgers. He made me fry him up burgers sometimes when I took care of him on my Wednesdays. He would also make me sit and watch "Big Cat Diaries" with him. There are so many of these little things that instantly bring me back to the emotions of watching my dad die. I try to avoid a lot of these things.

But being able to make lasagna for my mom, and not expecting my dad to be there, maybe it means I am on the road to healing my heart? Or maybe it means I am just coping a little better? Who knows - but the good days are so far inbetween the bad, I will enjoy the good ones for now.