Emotions Involved... beware

I wrote this last week, and I nearly didn't post it. It's a bit too personal, so I just saved it, not intending to do anything with it. Then I reread it and I realised even though it's not particularly coherent, writing just helps sometimes. And maybe reading will help someone else.

My dad died six years ago. I was 26, and while I know that I was lucky to have him as long as I did, it still felt far too young for both me and him (he was 54). It's an absolute truth that the death of a loved one is something you will never truly get over. You learn to cope, you get on with life, the pain and grief dwindle and very rarely surface. But just once in a while, sometimes for no real reason that you can even perceive, you will just be completely blindsided, and thrown back into that well of grief, even if only for a few minutes. Which for some reason is where I've ended up tonight. I was thinking about what he would have thought of the whole spanking thing (not that I ever would have told him if he had been around, lol!) , and I came to the conclusion that he wouldn't exactly have been proud of me... and then I thought again and decided that might not be quite true. Oh, I'm not sure he would have approved, but he was always telling me that I could do whatever I wanted to do with my life, and be whoever I wanted to be. And that's what I am doing - I'm doing what I want to with my life, and the spanking is a facet of who I want to be and it makes me happy. After all, life is too short, I know that for a fact. So maybe he would have been proud? Anyway, it was that thinking that landed me where I am now, with the tears running down my cheeks, the red eyes, the highly unattractive snotty nose and the certain knowledge that however far behind you you think you have put something, it will always pop up and catch you when you are least expecting it.
Apologies for the random whinging. Normal service will be resumed shortly.