Dear Dad,
I miss you. Why did you fuck up so badly when you were alive? Why did you make me resent you and hate to be around you? Why did we wait so long to make up? Why did you die a month after we made up? Why do I ache for you so badly now that you’re gone?
You’ve been visiting me though, haven’t you? The random memories that pop up in my head at the most random times…the songs that come on randomly that make me think of you….restaurants friends mention that were our favorite spot together…yet not a common place so it’s randomly brought up and I can picture us there eating and laughing.
I struggle with hating you. I struggle with loving you. I struggle with missing you the most. I’m glad you let me know you’re still around.
Thank you and come see me more often. Tell Grandma I said hi.
Love and loss
I got back home late Monday night after a very emotionally draining weekend. It wasn’t even so much the fact that my grandma was gone because she lived a very long, good life. Everything reminded me of my dad, though. That’s what was emotionally draining to me. All the songs that were sung were songs he loved or sang too. All the people that got up to talk said something about my dad in regards to my grandma. Granted, she had 9 kids but my dad was the youngest and it just seemed that everything reminded me of him. Pictures of him up in collages with guitar in hand and a smile on his face.
I really, really miss my dad.
And the longer he’s gone the harder it’s become, which usually is not the case. I blog about him in search of healing because of how our relationship went and how suddenly he died and all the shit I’ve been dealing with emotionally because of it. I hate him for drinking so much. I hate him for being selfish and letting all of us go. Then again, I forgive him for it because while he went down that road and could have turned back, he hated himself FOR even going that way and then drank more to deal with it. I’m not trying to make excuses because in my opinion, he ultimately chose booze over us.
That hurts. Immensely. And yet, does that mean he stopped loving us? No. My dad called me MANY times before and after I moved away, drunk and sober both, to tell me he loved me and missed me. And I? I was a total asshole to him…at least most of the times. I was hurt and mad and confused…and now that he’s gone…the only thing I am is sad. I have a gigantic dad sized hole in my heart and nothing can fill it. I miss him for all the good times…I miss him for all things we could have had if he would have changed….I miss him for all we could have had if he lived through his liver transplant. I don’t know anyone else who has lost a loved one in the middle of a life saving surgery that would have made everything better. My head is filled with so much to say about him…about it all and yet I just can’t seem to find the right words. I cried on the flight home Monday night thinking about what I’d say here on this blog and now I can only remember less than half of it. A fleeting moment I guess….I wish I had a laptop at that moment.
I went to my dad’s grave before I came back home.
I thankfully remembered where he generally was and just dug and dug through tons of snow until I found him. I probably looked like a crazy person hacking through snow and ice but I refused to stop, no matter how cold I got, until I found him. And after I did I stood there and cried. Tears froze to my cheeks and yet I couldn’t stop. I told him I’m so mad at him for doing what he did….but that I forgave him and that I knew he knew that. I told him I missed him. I told him I would give anything to hear his voice again…to hear him sing again…to play his guitar again….to hug him again. It’s a rotten feeling when you lose someone who you had SO much to say to them and never got to. I have no idea if this will ever get easier….so far it’s just gotten worse. And yet, I feel my dad nearby sometimes. I didn’t at all this weekend which I thought I would…but I have other times. I know he hears me and knows how I feel. That does help. I kissed my fingers and then put them on his headstone and walked away promising that I’d come see him next time I’m in town. Going there, digging the snow away, talking to him…it was all cathartic. Something I needed as it was the first time I’ve been there alone. I think I’ll go there alone from now on.
My grandma’s funeral went smoothly and her life was honored the best way we all knew how….by singing and laughing and eating. She would have been proud. I got to see so much family that I haven’t seen in ages. I took pictures with as many people as I could. I spent quality time with my mom too which is important because as much as I like to deny this, I don’t think my mom has much longer left in this world. And as I told The Man when I got back…her passing away will be very bittersweet because her MS has withered her body so much and ruined her so much that she’s just a shell of who she used to be and I hate it. I want her to move here and she won’t so it’s just torture to know she could have a better life but chooses not to…and to know I’m so far away…and to know she’s slowly giving up…but we believe in Heaven and that’s where she wants to be. She’s told me she’s tired and just ready to go Home. And while I’d miss her terribly and I can’t imagine my life without my mom in it…I’ll be happy for her that she’s finally walking again and will never see her wheelchair again. I love my mom and I just want her to be happy again.
The best part of my weekend was coming home to my girls. Hannah, who didn’t want to be in any pictures mind you, was so glad I was home and asked if I was glad to be back in my own bed. Yes, honey, so very glad.
And Livie pretty much acted like I wasn’t even gone and continued on with her normal daily activities like walking the dogs around the house on their leashes.
And playing with Bella.
Emotionally yes, I’m drained but I’m also recharged. Seeing my family recharged me. Getting back home to The Man and my girls also recharged me. I’m so grateful I was able to get back to Cleveland and be there for such a monumental goodbye to my grandma.
I say it all the time but we have to live our lives….we only get one shot at it.
Make the best of it, y’all.
Moments
I know you’ve had these moments before…the kind that stop you dead in your tracks and they take you back to a memory or a time that feels like you just lived it yesterday and not years ago.
This weekend we had family and friends over. We laughed and ate and had fun. We took pictures. But today I just wasn’t feeling it to blog about it or even post the pictures.
I’m addicted to the show Glee. And on that show last season they sang Somewhere Over the Rainbow. It’s that newer version of the song that’s so pretty and if you click on that link you can see it. So I’ve been downloading songs from iTunes for my phone from Glee and I listen to them anytime I need a pick me up because the music from that show is just amazing. I was driving and that song came on. All of a sudden I was transported to about 20 years ago and I could see this all clear as day in front of me as I drove.
My dad was there playing his guitar singing this song….the Wizard of Oz version. I could see him close his eyes and I could hear his voice and I could see his fingers on the strings. I don’t know how I kept driving to be honest because all I could see or hear was this moment. I snapped out of it when a tear rolled down my cheek. Just one tear but a sad one nonetheless. My dad wasn’t a huge part of my life to be honest and I mourn that fact everyday. So many days go by where I don’t think of him. He wasn’t involved in the day to day things like The Man is or my girls are that God forbid, if something should happen to them, I’d think about them every second because so much of my day revolves around them. And I guess that’s why this all caught me off guard and upset me so much. Out of nowhere my dad showed up….a vivid, colorful memory that I probably haven’t thought about again since it actually happened.
It was nice.
And I truly feel that for some reason he was there in my car letting me know that he’s thinking about me too and he picked that moment to let me know.
It was nice, that moment. That’s what’s on my mind today.
The day before my birthday
Tomorrow is my birthday. I won’t be blogging tomorrow. I usually do blog on my birthday but I think this year I’m gonna take a break from it. Every year for the past 3 years my birthday has been bittersweet. I’ve always loved my birthday. I think celebrating birthdays is so awesome. A lot of people don’t like to make big deals out of their birthdays and I’ve never been able to understand that. You should celebrate. It’s another year you’ve been alive and another year you’ve added to your story. It’s not always been an easy life for me and yet, each year, I was always excited for my birthday. 3 years ago I was excited for it too. Except that when I woke up that morning, I had no idea that 3 hours later I would get a phone call that my dad had died suddenly in surgery. It was such a blow and I was in denial about it for weeks. I drove home to Ohio. I went to his funeral. I buried my dad. Then I got angry for a while thinking about everything I missed out on because of his mistakes. Then I got sad. And I blogged this on his birthday a few months ago. And since then I’ve dreaded tomorrow. Except I was fine all week long. I was actually excited for my birthday. My girls were being so cute at home…being so sweet to eachother and making me feel so full of love…full of life.
I got to work this morning and the girls at work “decorated” for my big day, Justin Bieber style. Total gag as I don’t like Justin Bieber. I mean, I don’t NOT like him but I’m not a crazed fan or anything like they portrayed me to be.
So I laughed and cut up and got excited again for tomorrow.
Until I opened up this blog to start writing. I planned on writing about how sweet Hannah was to let Livie lay on her and fall asleep and how sweet Livie was to even WANT to go cuddle with Hannah. Hannah was so proud and told me she’d get her to sleep every night if Livie would let her. I sat here and planned to focus on that so I wouldn’t have to think about what I’ve not thought about all week…..
My dad.
But I couldn’t help it. I sat here staring at the screen and thinking about my dad. I read this post and teared up. So I began my yearly tradition since he died of finding pictures to post here and then I got upset again because I have like 5. I know I have some from when I was a kid but recent ones since my wedding…5. That makes me wanna curl up in a ball and cry all day long. I’m so mad at myself for not realizing sooner that he was sick and while he chose drinking, he didn’t choose to hurt me the way he did. He tried…REALLY tried with me and I turned him away. I wrote long letters to him telling him he was a horrible dad. I was mean to him when he called me and told him to quit drinking if he wanted to talk to me. Now he’s gone and I’m left feeling this with no dad to say sorry to. GOSH. I hate this all. The yearly repetition of feeling this way. And I feel like it’s going to get worse before it gets better…before I feel at peace about it.
So, yes, tomorrow is my birthday. And I’ll celebrate with my family because they love me and I’m grateful for another year here on this earth. But at night, when it’s just me and my thoughts, I’ll cry. Because I miss my dad.
And he doesn’t know.
Happy 58th birthday, Dad.
Today would have been my dad’s 58th birthday. Almost 60. Wow. He’s been gone for 2.5 years. It seems like way longer sometimes. When I think about blogging that morning I got the news…that seems like ages ago. I spent an hour this morning trying to find this picture of Hannah and my dad from when she was like 14 months or so. I remembered seeing it this past weekend and I could have sworn I saw it online. After an hour of searching and digging I remembered that I hadn’t seen it online. I saw it in an old photo album at home that I hadn’t seen in years. Then I got totally upset that I didn’t have the picture to post here since that’s why I started looking for it to begin with. Upset that I wanted this picture online because I hadn’t seen it in years. Upset that there will never be pictures of Livie with him. Upset that he made SO many mistakes and created so much distress and anguish in our family. Upset that he was a drunk. Upset that I only have like 3 pictures of us together in my adult life because of the huge rift he created. Upset that I was so young when my bitterness toward him began. Upset that it took him dying for me to realize how much I loved him. Upset that it took him dying to remember many good times we had. Upset that I’m 28 years old and am just now realizing how he truly had an addiction and it wasn’t something that was easy for him to stop….or else he would have. Upset that I’m just now realizing that he wanted to stop…and couldn’t. That he would have traded it all to have his wife, his true love, back…and have his kids back. So he just drank more because that kind of guilt is unbearable. Upset because I’m realizing this way too late. Upset because EVERYONE else that knew him saw how wonderful he was outside of the booze…saw how funny and entertaining he was. I saw these things too. But the drinking? It took it away from me. From my memories. From my concern.
Upset because I miss him.
I used to think that when people said that alcoholism or drug addiction or depression were genetic disorders that were passed on to children…generation after generation….I thought that was ridiculous. Those were things people chose. Those were selfish actions and they chose them. But now…now that I’m finally a grown up…I’m seeing that’s not the case. Who would choose to continue a problem that destroys their whole lives? My dad isn’t alive for me to tell him this. So I’m telling all of you instead.
I forgave my dad years ago. Well, at least I thought I did. But now? Now I truly have.
Happy birthday Dad. We love you.
2 years
today marks 2 years since my dad died. 2 years since he’s been gone. 2 years and 1 month since we last talked. and it’s still so freakin confusing to me. it’s so hard to mourn someone when you aren’t sure how you felt about then when they were alive. when my dad was alive i was pretty much bitter towards him. i was nice to him when i saw him but he wasn’t someone that i thought about a lot. he wasn’t to me like how my mom is to me. and i’ve blogged a lot about my dad in the past…my issues about him. that last talk we had sorta sealed the deal. i was angry with him for the things he said but i felt peace that i finally got to tell him what i thought about things he did in life. i felt closure. we said i love you before we hung up. then he died. and i realized that maybe he wasn’t ALL that bad…i remembered a lot of good times…a lot of fun times that i totally blocked out when he was alive because i was so angry. and after he died, i didn’t have to be angry anymore. i could just let it go and really dwell on the good times. i mean, why dwell on the bad times now? i still won’t ever forget the crappy things he did/said. but it’s sorta moot now, right? i dunno. all i know is that my dad was always a thunder stealer from anyone around him. and i think that was just his personality. he was the youngest of 9 kids. he was always babied. he had a beautiful singing voice and played the guitar so awesomely–awesome sense of humor…he just stole the thunder anywhere he went. i admired that about him. so now it doesn’t surprise me at all that he died on my birthday. it totally fit him. that day when i got the news i was devasted and in shock. and then a few weeks later when the dust settled i sat there and sorta giggled about it and told him that it figures he’d die on one of his kid’s birthday- because from that day on, every year when my birthday comes, much like today, i will sit and think “today is the day dad died” before i think “today is my birthday”.
miss you dad.
Daddy issues
so my dads death has been alot harder on me than i thought it would. and i’ve not blogged about it really because i’ve been trying to sort things out in my head before i put it all down here. we weren’t close. everyone knew this. we both knew it. and i honestly for some crazy reason thought that my dad dying wasn’t gonna be a huge life changing ordeal for me when it happened. i couldn’t have been more wrong. i some how forgot that hello, i’m human. and yeah, he’s my dad. its gonna hurt. alot. and its not so much regret or guilt…we made our peace and had the best relationship we could have had the past year. but its moreso just the fact that he’s gone. i wont hear him play his guitar anymore..Nettie will never hear him play….he wont be at our christmas functions anymore…i wont see him when i go home to visit anymore…he’s really actually gone. 2 weeks ago it finally did hit me and i sobbed my eyes out for a while. and after that i felt alot better but the pain is still there. i guess its the fact that i’ve lost a parent…the person thats responsible for my being here…i’ve never lost someone so closely related to me before and i just had no idea how it would impact me. then i got even more upset because i looked for hours for pictures of me and my dad or my dad and Nettie and i came up with like 3 of me and him, 2 from my wedding and one of him and Nettie when she was 2 months old. that made me so sad because i couldn’t believe that i didn’t have more pictures of him with us. and i have to remind myself that it wasn’t my fault that our relationship was the way it was and thats why i didn’t have tons of pictures. and that in itself upsets me because i guess him being gone means that there’s no more chances to work further on us. its just like we were going 100 mph down this road to improvement and then all of a sudden the road drops off suddenly into a ravine. he died so suddenly with no time for anyone to say anything to him before he went. and i’m just glad i told him i loved him when i did. still wish i could have one last time before he went into surgery. it’s gonna take some time to heal, i’ve now realized. i’ve never had a death impact me so much…its all new to me.
Subscribe
You Know You Want It
I support
