February 29, 2016.
Here we are , two and a half months since my dad died. I've had a lot of quiet time to sort through things and be on my own. I have so much to do, I'm finding coupons expired in November. Its like, life was already tough enough. Losing dad is a category of its own.
I had this weekend to myself in the house. I couldn't sleep and didn't push the issue. I let myself sort through things. For the first time, I could work on without being crippled from emotion the entire time.
Monday, February 29, 2016
Thursday, January 14, 2016
lost.
I'm not really sure where I'm supposed to go with my emotions, but I don't really have an outlet for them. I can't exactly post things as status updates or whatever, because I don't want anyone to feel sorry for me. When my dad died suddenly and unexpectedly four weeks ago, my world changed. I know that we all know the death of our parents are inevitable. Not everyone knows their dad, not everyone knows their mom. I have both parents.
I called my dad at 7:50 pm December 16, 2015. I had a feeling something wasn't quite right and I'd been waking up with Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite stuck in my head. I knew I needed to talk to my dad, I wanted to hear his voice, I wanted to hear him say he was alright. As the phone was ringing, mom heard my dad say that he wasn't up to talking. Of course he wasn't. He was on his way to a full, raging, blow out. The widow maker... The massive heart attack.
I cry as I type because I know he didn't want to answer questions. I only wanted to call and hear his voice. I would ask him if he was alright because he had been on my mind nonstop lately. I don't think he wanted to answer that question. He wasn't alright. He was acting alright, he was joking with mom. They were having a good day together. Dad had really bad indigestion but the tums were working, so why suspect anything. His left arm hurt. Why wouldn't it? He had been using the leaf blower and he's left handed. He thought he pulled a muscle. He thought he had overdone it.
I called at 7:50. Dad usually went to bed around 8 or so, so when the call came at 8:50, I thought that dad was up late. I had no idea what I was in for... Mom called "Your dad... (I don't remember her words)... you dad, he's dead...." Mom had come in to find him slumped over, still reaching for his game on the computer. Its like everything just stopped. Mom called 911, they guided her through CPR. She did it tirelessly for thirty minutes until EMT came. Mom does not give up. Mom does not quit. Mom is the most persistent woman I know. She did it, as best as she could. They gave dad adrenaline. They shocked his heart. Nothing, nothing, nothing....
We were almost to their home, I got a message to go back, no one wanted Zoe to see my dad like that. He was dead, he was laying on the ground in the floor, he was gone. We checked in to the local hotel because I wasn't sure what was about to go on. I know that I asked to be dropped off at the end of the driveway. As I walked up, I met with my brother. His eyes were wide, he spoke slowly, out of shock and disbelief. He told me not to go in and that mom wasn't doing well. We had to be strong for mom. I went in. Dad was in the floor, covered in a white sheet. I couldn't lift it up. I just knew that my dad was there, but I couldn't feel his presence. Oh my God, I have never felt so lost in my life. My dad.... my dad.... my dad.... That night, I started to walk to the barn. I was hoping to find him there, in his clutter of tools as I remember him. I wanted to find him. I need my dad. We were close. I was looking. I felt really lost. I felt like I didn't know what to do or where to start or even compose myself to respond to text messages or answer the phone. I just stared at it when it made noise, I couldn't process it at all. I still can't.
I'm not sure what all happens from here. I know we put together a nice family night for him. It was open casket (he was cremated later) and he looked so peaceful. I put together an 80 minute CD to be played. It had the Beatles, the Doors, Jimi Hendrix, Wilco. There was an open mic for people to tell stories. Dad never met a stranger. There were so many people there. My brother and I (and our families) have iphones. We bought an ipad for her to use for facetime.
So, fast forward four weeks and now what? Anger. Loss. Sadness. Grief. I have questions only dad can answer and he is not here. I'm angry, we had no warning. I thought he would get old and frail first. He was frail, 65 isn't old. I feel lost. I've had one or two really good days, but everything else is a blur. I hate that I've become so flaky and unpredictable and not together. Some days (like today) I don't want to answer my phone. I don't have anything to say or know how to say things. I can't handle small talk today. Not today. Not yesterday. I'm lost. I feel like I have to go somewhere but I don't know how to get here or which direction to go. The reality hits really hard at times and I don't like it. I disconnect because its too much to comprehend. My dad was such a big part of my life. We had such a good relationship. I'm very lucky to have had a dad that loved me so much, I'm so lucky to have gotten to know him as I did, I feel like a part of me is identified with my dad. That day, I feel like a very bit part of my life died too and I don't know what to do. I just know that I'm having a hard time. I know it will get better. I know there's life after grief. I know all of this. I'm so far from that, I'm doing good to know what day of the week it is.
I called my dad at 7:50 pm December 16, 2015. I had a feeling something wasn't quite right and I'd been waking up with Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite stuck in my head. I knew I needed to talk to my dad, I wanted to hear his voice, I wanted to hear him say he was alright. As the phone was ringing, mom heard my dad say that he wasn't up to talking. Of course he wasn't. He was on his way to a full, raging, blow out. The widow maker... The massive heart attack.
I cry as I type because I know he didn't want to answer questions. I only wanted to call and hear his voice. I would ask him if he was alright because he had been on my mind nonstop lately. I don't think he wanted to answer that question. He wasn't alright. He was acting alright, he was joking with mom. They were having a good day together. Dad had really bad indigestion but the tums were working, so why suspect anything. His left arm hurt. Why wouldn't it? He had been using the leaf blower and he's left handed. He thought he pulled a muscle. He thought he had overdone it.
I called at 7:50. Dad usually went to bed around 8 or so, so when the call came at 8:50, I thought that dad was up late. I had no idea what I was in for... Mom called "Your dad... (I don't remember her words)... you dad, he's dead...." Mom had come in to find him slumped over, still reaching for his game on the computer. Its like everything just stopped. Mom called 911, they guided her through CPR. She did it tirelessly for thirty minutes until EMT came. Mom does not give up. Mom does not quit. Mom is the most persistent woman I know. She did it, as best as she could. They gave dad adrenaline. They shocked his heart. Nothing, nothing, nothing....
We were almost to their home, I got a message to go back, no one wanted Zoe to see my dad like that. He was dead, he was laying on the ground in the floor, he was gone. We checked in to the local hotel because I wasn't sure what was about to go on. I know that I asked to be dropped off at the end of the driveway. As I walked up, I met with my brother. His eyes were wide, he spoke slowly, out of shock and disbelief. He told me not to go in and that mom wasn't doing well. We had to be strong for mom. I went in. Dad was in the floor, covered in a white sheet. I couldn't lift it up. I just knew that my dad was there, but I couldn't feel his presence. Oh my God, I have never felt so lost in my life. My dad.... my dad.... my dad.... That night, I started to walk to the barn. I was hoping to find him there, in his clutter of tools as I remember him. I wanted to find him. I need my dad. We were close. I was looking. I felt really lost. I felt like I didn't know what to do or where to start or even compose myself to respond to text messages or answer the phone. I just stared at it when it made noise, I couldn't process it at all. I still can't.
I'm not sure what all happens from here. I know we put together a nice family night for him. It was open casket (he was cremated later) and he looked so peaceful. I put together an 80 minute CD to be played. It had the Beatles, the Doors, Jimi Hendrix, Wilco. There was an open mic for people to tell stories. Dad never met a stranger. There were so many people there. My brother and I (and our families) have iphones. We bought an ipad for her to use for facetime.
So, fast forward four weeks and now what? Anger. Loss. Sadness. Grief. I have questions only dad can answer and he is not here. I'm angry, we had no warning. I thought he would get old and frail first. He was frail, 65 isn't old. I feel lost. I've had one or two really good days, but everything else is a blur. I hate that I've become so flaky and unpredictable and not together. Some days (like today) I don't want to answer my phone. I don't have anything to say or know how to say things. I can't handle small talk today. Not today. Not yesterday. I'm lost. I feel like I have to go somewhere but I don't know how to get here or which direction to go. The reality hits really hard at times and I don't like it. I disconnect because its too much to comprehend. My dad was such a big part of my life. We had such a good relationship. I'm very lucky to have had a dad that loved me so much, I'm so lucky to have gotten to know him as I did, I feel like a part of me is identified with my dad. That day, I feel like a very bit part of my life died too and I don't know what to do. I just know that I'm having a hard time. I know it will get better. I know there's life after grief. I know all of this. I'm so far from that, I'm doing good to know what day of the week it is.
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