Dwelling in the Awkward, Surreal and the Weird
Last Monday my dad died.
I have been repeating that in my head since last Monday. Whispering it to myself at odd moments. Thinking it to myself when I am alone and when my eyes moisten with tears I am brought out of this place where I feel like I am perpetually under water.
For the last couple of years I haven't been that close to my dad. It was me and my reasoning-and I have no regrets. Our parents are people. Flawed and sometimes insufferable, people.
My dad's heart...body was weakened by strokes, seizures- and after many hospital visits, and my repeated begging for him to really take care of himself. I helped him, but he didn't want my help. He didn't wanna hear me. So, I had to be okay with forgiving my dad, but not having him in my life.
On Monday when his weakened heart couldn't take it anymore, I had to be okay with it.
The story is longer than this, but we know how I only sprinkle my blog with very little deeply personal things. It keeps an air of mystery -and the man that will eventually handcuff me to a radiator to steal my skin...from knowing all the right buttons to push prolonging his torture.
Last Monday my dad died.
He was my daddy and my brothers. Those are the memories I have and hold dear. Regardless of anything, everything- he was my daddy and I will have him in my heart. I will try not to dwell on the things we will never experience.
I will have my memories. I will learn from his mistakes.
I will miss him. I will be okay.
I have been repeating that in my head since last Monday. Whispering it to myself at odd moments. Thinking it to myself when I am alone and when my eyes moisten with tears I am brought out of this place where I feel like I am perpetually under water.
For the last couple of years I haven't been that close to my dad. It was me and my reasoning-and I have no regrets. Our parents are people. Flawed and sometimes insufferable, people.
My dad's heart...body was weakened by strokes, seizures- and after many hospital visits, and my repeated begging for him to really take care of himself. I helped him, but he didn't want my help. He didn't wanna hear me. So, I had to be okay with forgiving my dad, but not having him in my life.
On Monday when his weakened heart couldn't take it anymore, I had to be okay with it.
The story is longer than this, but we know how I only sprinkle my blog with very little deeply personal things. It keeps an air of mystery -and the man that will eventually handcuff me to a radiator to steal my skin...from knowing all the right buttons to push prolonging his torture.
Last Monday my dad died.
He was my daddy and my brothers. Those are the memories I have and hold dear. Regardless of anything, everything- he was my daddy and I will have him in my heart. I will try not to dwell on the things we will never experience.
I will have my memories. I will learn from his mistakes.
I will miss him. I will be okay.
I'm sending you the biggest hug imaginable, which I know isn't always your scene - but know it's there if you want it. Your dad helped create one of the best women I know.
ReplyDeleteI'll raise you hug and throw a ass squeeze and a titty nuzzle.:)
ReplyDelete....but yeah, I'll hug you like once this summer or something.