Tag Archives: Dad

I see him everywhere.

Death, ,

I was at the doctors office today which is located in our local hospital – and I could’ve sworn I saw my father three different times walking off the elevator.

It still doesn’t seem real. I know it’s real. I have forgotten what he sounds like and that is just heart wrenching.

When I look at the date I can’t believe it’s been 12 days since he died. I made a promise that I would write in this journal every day and I haven’t kept his promise and I feel horrible. But some days I just can’t make it type for my brain think of the words because all I do is cry.

I’m okay until someone asks “Are you okay?”

Death, , ,

  
Today was the first day I didn’t wake up crying. It still really doesn’t seem real. And I think I’m going to be OK until someone calls, writes, or texts “Are you okay?” And I realize my dad is dead and I’m not OK.

I was trying to work today and became overwhelmed at a simple task. Bursting into tears I just went to the restroom and cried. I took my mother with me to pick up an item we needed and she had a dizzy spell so we called paramedics. They checked her all out and deemed her OK – anxious, stressed, and probably a little dehydrated. As I sat there waiting with her for help to arrive I felt sick inside and thought oh my God I’m going to lose my mother within the same month.

This is just all so screwed up. I know he was 79, I understand he was ill, but this wasn’t how I envisioned him dying.

He wasn’t a saint…

Dad, Death, , , , , ,

  
When people die a lot of the time they are remembered as saints. “Oh that Bill Smith, he was a saint, he was just a good guy perfect in every way.”

We know that’s not true. But really – are we going to stand around and say ” Yep, that Bill Smith was a son of a bitch, a real asshole.” Nope we induct regular people into the sainthood after death.

I’m going to really try not to do that with my dad or to my dad. I think he would have hated that phony bullshit.

The truth is I loved the guy deeply but Jesus Christ we had a very complicated (often with a lot conflict) relationship.

And he certainly wasn’t a saint. Not by a long shot. 

He was a human being.

I want to have the ability to write these long flowery posts about my father. I’m not going to hold my breath.

I’ll just write it as it comes.

Obituary Hell

Dad, Death, Life, , ,

I’m taking on the responsiblity of writing my dad’s obituary. 

Words like brutal, painful, raw, and excruciating come to mind.

Remembering and honoring my dad is incredibly important to me.

I can’t stop crying.

He’s never coming back.

I’m already forgetting what his voice sounds like.

I stood in his closet and smelled his clothes.

My poor mom. She lost her friend of 59 almost 60 years.