Tag Archives: Death

I hope you had the best seat in the house in heaven.

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You would’ve loved it dad.  More importantly, you would love her.  We all love her.  She’s amazing.  She’s genuine.  She’s down to earth.   She’s funny.   She’s as beautiful as she is kind.  Speaking of kind -She’s kind, so very kind.   She loves mom, and she’s so good to mom.  She’s truly like a sister and that feels incredible.  It’s like she’s always been a part of our family – and a lot of the time I forget that you didn’t have the opportunity to meet her .  Most importantly, he loves her to the moon and back. They complete each other like two puzzle pieces, like peas and carrots, like bacon and eggs, like the ying and the yang.  I haven’t seen your boy this happy in decades.  There’s a sense of peace, tranquility –  they are truly soulmates.  Yes dad you would’ve loved it.

 

 

If your dad died…

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If your dad died I just want to say to you I’m just so sorry. Really I am but the truth is there are no good words that are going to help you right now or bring you comfort, because frankly regardless of what kind of relationship you had with your dad – when your father dies it just fucking sucks.

My dad died January 20th, 2016. We knew this day would come we just didn’t expect it to be that soon I guess – but really are you ever prepared for the death of a parent? I know I wasn’t.

I used to think that moving into your own place, buying your first car, getting married, having a child, your first job – all of those things are all about being a grown-up. However, I don’t really think I became a true grown up until I lost a parent. I had so many what the fuck moments after my dad died that it’s impossible to keep track of all of them now.

My father‘s death was complicated. Maybe not so much for him – I believe he died very peacefully without struggle. At least I was told he didn’t appear to have struggled, and looked very peaceful in death.

For me what was complicated was that I don’t feel like everything that needed to be said was in fact said. I think that when I reflect upon his death there were a lot of things that were left unsaid. And I hope he’s not struggling with that piece of this like I am.

So what am I left with now? He’s dead and there’s not a goddamn thing I can do about it. I just hope wherever he is he is at peace, he’s happy, and loving himself.

Life goes on for those who are left and what’s my blowing is how fast the time goes by at least for me – I can’t speak for my mom or my siblings.

There are things that I’m starting to forget which makes me very sad – like the way he sounded when he said my name. Or the way he used to call me number one from Star Trek. The way he smelled – he was old school and he wore aqua Velva and in the days that he smoked the combination of aqua Velva and cigarette smoke with just so my dad.

Our family is very different now – I wouldn’t have admitted it or year ago but now that we are going on your two I feel comfortable in saying that our family dud not disintegrate, fall apart, or become disenfranchised. We have all come together as a solid unit cleaving to one another and it’s been incredible.

I sometimes wonder if my dad is sad about that. And I hope he’s not.

But if your dad has died today again I’m really sorry and I’m just gonna prepare you for some really sad days ahead – lots of time for reflection – a lot of tears on those first birthdays, holidays and other important days that you will be remembering your dad on. But I’m going to tell you there is another side to this – and you’ll get to it. It does get better – you’ll always remember him regardless if he was the son of a bitch or not – but he was still your dad. And it’s really OK to love and miss him.

It’s weird – now when I encounter the elderly….

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I wonder how much longer they’ve got on planet earth.

I want to hear all of their stories, soak up all of their wisdom, and just be present with them in that moment.

I wonder if they have a family.

I wonder if they have any friends left.

I wonder if they love their family and if their family loves them.

I wonder if they’re healthy or if they’re sick.

I wonder if they realize they are on borrowed time.

  

I’m so sorry for your loss…or something like that.

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I know, right? 

It’s kind of like at Kroger or Whole Foods when they ask you if you’ve found everything all right?  

It’s expected, they are supposed to ask.

I hate I’m so sorry for you loss. It’s not like I lost my car keys, my wedding ring, or a gold bracelet. 

I’m really sorry would just suffice. There’s really nothing else to say.

It’s been 14 days and 2 weeks.

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The past 14 days have been a blur of sorts. Everyone has returned to work, and their lives. The obituary is done. Dad has been cremated. Mom is busy cleaning and putting the house back together. I still continue to dream.

Last nights dream was I was the only one in the house who had a clue that dad was dead. Everyone was flitting about as if he wasn’t. I was standing there trying to yell in my dream hey dad what are you doing here you’re dead. And I was panicked because nobody was acknowledging  what I was saying.

I don’t want to dream about him anymore for a while. It’s way too upsetting. I’ve been having panic attacks, not sleeping well, i’m feeling anxiety, and angst. Cripes, i’m feeling anxious just writing about this.

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

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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…

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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

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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.