Tag Archives: grief

Dear Dad [Rest in Peace]

26 Dec

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Dear Dad,

I called you dad, pa, daddy, Roberto, papa. You called me Michelleeanna, Annie, hot rod…Anner Nanner.

You’ve been the best father that a girl could hope for, and you’ve been with me through every moment of my life, big or small. As we go through your belongings, we find things that bring back the best memories…memories I’ll cherish the rest of my life. You may be gone in body, now, but you’ll never be gone in spirit.

The day of my wedding, you’ll be there.
The day I finally buy a house, you’ll be there.
The day I graduate with my next degree…you’ll be there.

You live on in me and my sister, our mother, and your grand children.

I find solace knowing that you are finally at peace, and that your pain has ended. You fought a good fight, Dad, and I knew that no matter the outcome, the day you told me I’m going to fight this damn cancer  that everything would be okay. And I know that as much as I love you, and I admire you that you love me and are proud of me.

Everything I’ve done until this day, and everything I’ll do in the future is to make you and Mom proud of me. You are such a major part of who I are, and who I’ve become. You’re the fire to my phoenix.

I know that you held on as long as you did for us, to make sure we were ready and that we would be okay once you were gone. Thank you for that. I know it was a hard, long struggle. I know you were worried. But we will be okay. I got to spend one last Christmas with my papa, even if you were only hanging on by a thread, even if you couldn’t sit with us next to the Christmas tree…I got to sing Christmas carols to you, and buy you one last Christmas present, and for that I’ll be forever grateful.

I’ll miss you. I love you.

Give ’em hell, Dad

Rest in Peace
12.26.14
2:19 pm

When “Alone” Doesn’t Begin to Cover It: Being the “Balanced” One

2 Dec

Over Thanksgiving, I was once again reminded of my role in the family: the balanced one. I don’t know how I got stuck with that title, but it appears I have no choice. My sister and my mother can’t seem to stand each other. One owes the other, and one can’t see that she’ll never be repaid. They are both anxious and nervous, and can’t seem to talk to one another even on the eve of my fathers death.

So Mom comes to me to cry about everything because my sister isn’t talking to her. My sister comes to me to cry about everything because she isn’t talking to my mom. No one seems to be able to remain calm but me.

Balance.

Being the balanced one means I don’t get a lot of time to be unbalanced, which sometimes I so desperately need. I have to be balanced, because if I become unhinged like everyone else, the world plummets into chaos. And I can’t handle chaos.

It’s lonely when you’re balanced.

My mother told me something on the phone the other day that I just can’t seem to shake. I know it’s true, and I know that means I’ll be alone. She told me, when talking about the grief counselor that hospice sends over once a week, that herself, my sister, and I will each need someone to be our rock on that day, and that my mom doesn’t think she will be able to do it.

I haven’t heard such a truthful statement.

And on that day, I will be the loneliest, most alone person on the planet. My mom has the grief counselor, my sister has her husband, and me…well…

I have no one.

But I’m the balanced one. And the balanced one must remain balanced, so naturally I will use logic to assess my emotions, that my emotions are valid, that death is necessary and predictable, and that having no one is a result of being balanced. Because only the balanced one can be okay without someone else to balance for them.

And on that day, I fear nothing more than my entire family becoming unhinged and estranged from one another, simply because the person who made the balanced person balance, is gone.

Death: Logic & Reason VS. Feelings & Emotion

27 Oct

I tend to be a very logical person. A great example (at least to me) was the time that I blacked out in a hotel. Once I started to come to, my first full thought was “Please don’t need to go to the doctor to get IV fluids”.

Or, when I get broken up with or rejected or anything of that nature, I always acknowledge that it’s okay if you don’t like me. It is. You can’t force anyone to like you or to love you, and we don’t have control over our feelings.

I do tend to be a very sensitive individual, too. I don’t have any great examples for that one, so you’ll just have to trust me.

With death, and this may be a “me” thing or an “everyone” thing, I find that these two seemingly contradictory processes makes dealing difficult.

My dad has officially been placed on hospice care. The treatment for his cancer is too hard on his body, and he has been given only a couple of months to live. I can only hope that is a conservative guess, and that he might have something closer to 4 or 6 months.

Being faced with my father passing soon, I find myself conflicted. I just don’t know how to feel.

Death is probably the most logical, reasonable, and expected thing in life. We know it’s coming from the second we know what death is. It happens to everyone and everything, and the only thing we don’t necessarily know is when and how. Because it is such a logical thing, I feel like I’m being somewhat cold to the situation. Of course I think it is too soon, and if I had a choice my dad wouldn’t have to leave me, but he does. If it wasn’t soon, it would be later, and it would still happen. It  will happen to my mom and my sister, and eventually me and my husband. My nieces and nephews. All of us.

But like I said, I’m a sensitive soul. I’m torn up that I’m losing my father. He won’t get to walk my down the aisle when I get married. He won’t see me get my next degree. I won’t be able to take care of him when he gets older and I have the ability. There are so many times I turn to my father to make me feel accepted, and happy, and justified in my feelings. I feel frustrated with myself when I start being logical about the situation.

I’m stuck in the middle. One part of me says that I should stay strong and carry on, that feeling overwhelmingly sad is unnecessary. The other part of me says that I should quit my job and glue myself to my dad’s side until he passes and that there should be no moment that I’m not crying.  One part says that it is time to accept what is happening and the other part says do not accept defeat – you aren’t ready to lose Dad yet.

On one hand, I’m quite fortunate to be able to sort these things out [somewhat] before he passes, but on the other, it gives me more time to think things over too much.

How do you deal with death? Do you reason yourself through it, or do you just let the emotion flow? Is this a weird “me” thing, or is this an “everyone” thing? With the death you’ve had to deal with, was it sudden or did you prepare prior to it’s occurrence? 

The Roommate Chronicles: Dealing with Death

19 Aug

I’m not sure even where to start.

I guess I can start at the beginning.

At the beginning of this month, I got a new roommate. I saw him every day for a little over a week, and then my life started to get even busier than it already is. Parties, friends, work, friends, stuff…you know how it goes.

Then, as it started to kind of slow down a tiny bit, I noticed something was wrong. I hadn’t seen him recently.

The feeling came as a smell first. Then it came as flies. Then, I panicked.

But I have great friends, and being who I am, sometimes I just need someone to talk me down and make me actually accept the logical reasons I’ve pushed to the back of my mind as actuality, and that’s just what they did.

But then, it was all validated. On Friday night, at just about midnight, the police came to my house, and discovered that my new roommate was dead in his room.

He’d been there for 5 days.

It’s kind of surreal to get that news, no matter how sure you are that’s what is wrong. Going into this situation that night, two of my friends made attempts to find him themselves, and I’m so glad they didn’t. I would feel terrible if they had been traumatized like that because of me.

I’m so thankful that door was locked.

When I started this series, I never imaged that I would be writing about this. And I almost don’t know what else to say.

Death isn’t something I’ve ever really had to cope with, and while this situation is a little different – I didn’t know him – I still need to deal with the situation.

One second, I’m over it and I just want to go home and continue with my normal routine. The next second, I’m clinging to the friends I was with that night, wishing that they never had to leave my side.

I’m currently staying at one of their houses, because my house is kind of uninhabitable at the moment, but as the week wears on I’m not sure what the next step is.

They keep telling me I need to move, but I don’t really feel that’s necessary. And I don’t know when I’ll be able to go back to my house, but the one I’m staying at kind of has an expiration date that’s coming quickly, and the other friend I can stay with will be out of town when that happens. I’m in weird limbo, and I don’t like it.

Maybe I’ll have more to say later. Maybe this is all there is.