I wish you could have stayed...
It's hard to say it
he's really gone
My one real parent
the man who raised me
my strength in life
As much as I always liked to pretend I was independent, it was only because he was always there.. pulling me up by the scruff of my neck every time I fell face first into my own mistakes.
I watched him die
smoked half a pack of camels in the early morning light
4am.. maybe 430.
Still waiting for someone to come and save me.
Screaming up to the heavens from my front lawn .. asking why he had to leave me here alone.
It's the only time I've called my friends in the middle of the night stone sober. And by that same evening they were here.. mini bottles of vodka in hand. They were the only thing that got me through this past week.
I grew up in an instant.
This is what I get for wanting to be an event planner. Nobody else had the heart. My mother didn't have the right state of mind. My very first event. All to myself. My own father's memorial service.
Despite the heart ache, it went off without a hitch.
I didn't cry. I gave my speech. I shared the part of him that only I knew. But not too much. I'm selfish that way.
Diagnosed in June. Dead by July. That's life.. huh?
He told me I already had all the answers from him I would ever need, and when the time comes I will realize that.
I think I can.
I never said goodbye. Not because I wasn't there.. I watched him take his last breathe. But because I didn't want to. It wasn't necessary.
I regret nothing.
It's when you find out what you're really made of. And no matter how much mud you've already been dragged through, it doesn't matter. It doesn't help. Nothing can prepare you. Nothing.
We have to sprinkle the ashes.
Buffalo- his home.
Boston- his playground.
Troy- his new life.
And save some to take overseas next summer.
It's a pain you could never understand.
And as I told my girls.. I hope you never have to.
he's really gone
My one real parent
the man who raised me
my strength in life
As much as I always liked to pretend I was independent, it was only because he was always there.. pulling me up by the scruff of my neck every time I fell face first into my own mistakes.
I watched him die
smoked half a pack of camels in the early morning light
4am.. maybe 430.
Still waiting for someone to come and save me.
Screaming up to the heavens from my front lawn .. asking why he had to leave me here alone.
It's the only time I've called my friends in the middle of the night stone sober. And by that same evening they were here.. mini bottles of vodka in hand. They were the only thing that got me through this past week.
I grew up in an instant.
This is what I get for wanting to be an event planner. Nobody else had the heart. My mother didn't have the right state of mind. My very first event. All to myself. My own father's memorial service.
Despite the heart ache, it went off without a hitch.
I didn't cry. I gave my speech. I shared the part of him that only I knew. But not too much. I'm selfish that way.
Diagnosed in June. Dead by July. That's life.. huh?
He told me I already had all the answers from him I would ever need, and when the time comes I will realize that.
I think I can.
I never said goodbye. Not because I wasn't there.. I watched him take his last breathe. But because I didn't want to. It wasn't necessary.
I regret nothing.
It's when you find out what you're really made of. And no matter how much mud you've already been dragged through, it doesn't matter. It doesn't help. Nothing can prepare you. Nothing.
We have to sprinkle the ashes.
Buffalo- his home.
Boston- his playground.
Troy- his new life.
And save some to take overseas next summer.
It's a pain you could never understand.
And as I told my girls.. I hope you never have to.