Long time no post.
Hello everyone,
I know it has been over a year since I posted. Reasons being that on March 9th, I lost my father to cancer. LJ had been a place where I had taken my frustrations out with his situation. Guilt over my words really plagued me. I couldn't really deal with the pain of him gone. I still can't. I can only try to move on.
I miss him so much. I am relieved he is no longer suffering. I wish he was still here.
All of these conflicting feelings. It is a lot to deal with.
"You never get over it, you just accept it." My grandma told me this recently.
Its hard. Not hearing his laugh, his stupid jokes, him chiding me about not being girlish, his voice that would echo when he wanted something, and the goofy ass smile he had. All of these things I can only have in my heart and my mind now.
That's where they'll stay. I can't forget, the thoughts and memories of him are sealed there. I am the proof that he lived. That he once walked on this earth. With his stupid dummy greeting people.
Its easier to remember him that way. The waking up in the middle of the night to change his diaper, changing his feeding tube. Picking him up an carrying him to his wheel chair, these things could tarnish the image I had of him. but, through out it all we smiled and joked. Even the night before when he said he wanted help with his physical therapy the next day. "You just rest, We'll see tomorrow how you feel." The last words I said to him. Echo in my mind.
A few days before he said to me. "I love you girls." talking to me, mom and Rebecca. I couldn't say it back. I choked. I felt like he was trying to say good-bye. So I wouldn't say it back. I could only squeeze his hand and chide him that it didn't make me forgive him for throwing stale oatmeal into the fire place.
I can only hope that he knew. The way I wanted to cheer him up. That was my "I love you too."
We often butted heads and even fought. As a kid he really wasn't nice very nice to me. But at the end of the day, he was my dad. He struggled and worked as hard as he could to make sure we didn't go without. Maybe that's what made him as hard as he was. I can only fault the both of us for being too similar.
I am my father's daughter.
I know it has been over a year since I posted. Reasons being that on March 9th, I lost my father to cancer. LJ had been a place where I had taken my frustrations out with his situation. Guilt over my words really plagued me. I couldn't really deal with the pain of him gone. I still can't. I can only try to move on.
I miss him so much. I am relieved he is no longer suffering. I wish he was still here.
All of these conflicting feelings. It is a lot to deal with.
"You never get over it, you just accept it." My grandma told me this recently.
Its hard. Not hearing his laugh, his stupid jokes, him chiding me about not being girlish, his voice that would echo when he wanted something, and the goofy ass smile he had. All of these things I can only have in my heart and my mind now.
That's where they'll stay. I can't forget, the thoughts and memories of him are sealed there. I am the proof that he lived. That he once walked on this earth. With his stupid dummy greeting people.
Its easier to remember him that way. The waking up in the middle of the night to change his diaper, changing his feeding tube. Picking him up an carrying him to his wheel chair, these things could tarnish the image I had of him. but, through out it all we smiled and joked. Even the night before when he said he wanted help with his physical therapy the next day. "You just rest, We'll see tomorrow how you feel." The last words I said to him. Echo in my mind.
A few days before he said to me. "I love you girls." talking to me, mom and Rebecca. I couldn't say it back. I choked. I felt like he was trying to say good-bye. So I wouldn't say it back. I could only squeeze his hand and chide him that it didn't make me forgive him for throwing stale oatmeal into the fire place.
I can only hope that he knew. The way I wanted to cheer him up. That was my "I love you too."
We often butted heads and even fought. As a kid he really wasn't nice very nice to me. But at the end of the day, he was my dad. He struggled and worked as hard as he could to make sure we didn't go without. Maybe that's what made him as hard as he was. I can only fault the both of us for being too similar.
I am my father's daughter.