suddenly
i feel like every muscle in my body has been injected with lead. it hurts to move. while my life had not been "normal" before today, at least it followed the expected time line. i had my first kiss when i was 14, learned to drive when i was 16, and i only had one grandparent die while i was in high school.
everything was derailed today, and i don't think there's a way to get back on track. every moment i've planned or imagined for the rest of my life is unchangably altered because my dad died today. he had a massive heart attack. it killed him immediately, in his backyard, with a hoe in one hand and a shovel in the other. he was about to cook london broil for my sisters and brother. he was only 52, and i'm only 21, and my brother hasn't even graduated from high school yet.
no one expected this, but who ever does? we even cling onto hope with the terminally ill, keep them running with machines that can never replicate their brains. my dad was never a machine. he lived a full life. we may have had our differences, but i know he always genuinely cared about me. over the past few years i had gotten into the habit of looking at my parents' divorce from his perspective, and i know that he probably suffered greatly in private, and i felt horrible about things i had said in the past. there's probably little good in this, considering it was where i was at at the time, and it only makes me feel a little better that we had been on great terms recently.
i have so many things i need to take care of, so much i have to deal with-- i am the next of kin, the executor of the estate. i don't even know where to begin. i had jamie call work, but i know i should do it, too. oh, and calling all of my friends and his friends and friends of the family and just having that awkward phonecall that only sounds okay if you're sobbing.
so i'm choosing the technologically advanced route. my dad died today. i will be okay eventually. you don't know what to say and neither do i.
everything was derailed today, and i don't think there's a way to get back on track. every moment i've planned or imagined for the rest of my life is unchangably altered because my dad died today. he had a massive heart attack. it killed him immediately, in his backyard, with a hoe in one hand and a shovel in the other. he was about to cook london broil for my sisters and brother. he was only 52, and i'm only 21, and my brother hasn't even graduated from high school yet.
no one expected this, but who ever does? we even cling onto hope with the terminally ill, keep them running with machines that can never replicate their brains. my dad was never a machine. he lived a full life. we may have had our differences, but i know he always genuinely cared about me. over the past few years i had gotten into the habit of looking at my parents' divorce from his perspective, and i know that he probably suffered greatly in private, and i felt horrible about things i had said in the past. there's probably little good in this, considering it was where i was at at the time, and it only makes me feel a little better that we had been on great terms recently.
i have so many things i need to take care of, so much i have to deal with-- i am the next of kin, the executor of the estate. i don't even know where to begin. i had jamie call work, but i know i should do it, too. oh, and calling all of my friends and his friends and friends of the family and just having that awkward phonecall that only sounds okay if you're sobbing.
so i'm choosing the technologically advanced route. my dad died today. i will be okay eventually. you don't know what to say and neither do i.