Dad
Dad,
I have thought about writing you or mom a letter and just dropping it in the mailbox, it would probably end up in the trash, but in my mind I would imagine that you would open it in a few days, and you would smile. Maybe it would allow you peace, something I feel I need, or maybe it would allow you to get a better sense of what I am feeling, because you both taught me words were everything. I often find that there are so many people who don't value them, or literature in even the smallest forms. It's very sad that the biggest form of communication is so wasted.
I would probably start by telling you the simple things. But there are so many other things on my mind.
Today was cold, more cold than any June day should be. There is a dove who sits on a neighbors roof and he coos all the time, I don't ever remember him being there until after you left. So sometimes I associate his presence with you, being they are a sign of peace. By doing this I do my best to avoid feelings of wanting to shoot him, but there are days it really is a struggle.
I woke up early, around 7:15 after closing last night, because even if I wanted to, I wouldn't be able to sleep anyways. It's always one or the other. I can't get enough sleep, or I can't seem to quiet my mind enough to allow myself rest. Either way some days I wake up and I feel like there are always four walls around me, and they are the same walls, every day. Every single day. My phone goes off and someone needs me. And I do what I need to, which some days is my bare minimum and others it is more than I have.
But I try to always be someone who can relate, who can help, but sometimes I want to be small. And yet, I don't know where that would be. In a world where we wish we were different to someone, we are who we are based on how we make others feel, and feelings change quite often.
Dad I always think about the day mom was rushed in after her seizure. That day felt like it was a building built on quicksand. No matter how I tried, everything sank, and I failed over, and over.
You met me after I called you to tell you what was going on, and while I thought I would be alone in that waiting room, you were where you always seemed to be. Waiting, to be you, to me, who you always were. And I fell apart when those doctors came in, because there were so many. I needed someone to say she was okay, but she wasn't okay. I wasn't okay. You weren't okay. And everything I had ever known in my entire life was this giant waiting game of knowing I was going to lose giant parts of myself, not in small portions like we do with those average heart breaks. But giant pieces. Parts of my identity, and there was nothing, not one single thing I could do to prevent it. Bigger than that I would have taken on any burden, for either of you, and I couldn't take this away. I couldn't save you, or keep you, or prevent any of it. I had to stand by and tell myself it was going to be okay. I had to let you die, and I didn't know how to do that. I still don't know how to do that, and you left me a long time ago.
After those doctors left I sat next to you and you looked at me as I tried so hard not to cry, unsuccessfully, and you said, I don't want this. I don't ever want to be a reason you look this way, you feel this way. I don't want this. I laughed through my tears at your statement, because although I understood, you knew that would be impossible for me. So you tried to pretend you were okay, mom pretended that she was okay, I did the same. Only I wasn't okay. So I lost you. I couldn't even explain to the people who knew me best how broken I was, so I just pretended as I have learned so well to do, that I was okay. And then mom had to go, and she fought so damn hard, and I tried not to be angry. But she had lost more than her life. I watched that woman lose so many times. Her pride, her confidence, her ability to set the world on fire, and because of someone who never took the time to even show her for a moment, that he was grateful for who she had been to him, which at times was more than she allotted my sisters and myself. Not because we meant any less, but because she was raised to value things differently, and it took me so long to understand that. Even so, she slipped away, and I stood at a desk, and asked them to take all the machines away, knowing that no one in the world would understand, not for a moment, who she was, to me, and to anyone who had the ability to know her.
Losing a parent is hard for anyone. For me it was ten years of losing, winning, proving people wrong, and never really being able to say goodbye. And then doing it twice, thirty nine days apart. I was there, because I wouldn't have been anywhere else when you died. but the last time we talked you lied to me. I know you did it to protect me, but you kept me from being able to understand so many things, and also kept me from being able to love you the way you deserved before you slipped away. Instead I held your hand, while machines dinged, and the respirator did what it could, while the iv's pumped antibiotics in your blood, but never again would I be able to tell you anything I was certain you could hear.
Those are the parts I struggle with, when it comes to you, and to her.
Other parts are more emotional, my blog is pretty desolate when it comes to followers, but there are things I simply couldn't share with anyone. Anyone but you. So I will have those moments when the time comes.
As for other things. You used to tell me not to worry about what the world thinks. There will always be critics. To worry about who I see in the mirror every day. What does she think? You told me to make her proud. But the hardest part is, I don't know who I am anymore. You both died, and then I drank so damn much I barely remember the first six months. I didn't do it to drown in sadness, I did it to avoid the sadness, until I realized one day that this wasn't who I am. I stopped drinking and got myself together. Because I wanted to be able to be the woman you raised me to be.I ended my relationship, moved out, had an affair with a married man, and I have no idea who that is. It didn't matter that he told me he was going through an ending like mine. It didn't matter that he lied to me, and used every which way to get close to me. At the end of the day I let him fool me. I kept thinking, you let someone fool you. You. I have no fucking idea who that is. I did the worst I ever have in school this last semester. Right in the middle of it Jenna died, and they had to work on her body while I stood in the hall, and all I could think was, why do I suck so much at loving people? I know her addiction isn't my fault, I know I can't prevent her from making choices that will hurt herself, but I failed to keep her safe. They were working on her body, and I couldn't for a minute think of one person who would get it, not even my sisters, because this had been so much more my journey with her than theirs, although it affected them too. I keep failing to understand who to be to any of them. I am not you. I keep trying to be this loving, guiding, and sometimes fearful force, but I am pooped out.
Then it comes with other things, you go through all of this and people think you are someone you aren't. Like you are still who you were before all of it, but better. But the truth is, I don't even know that girl anymore. Dean asked me to marry him and all I could think was, I don't know if I trust anyone who thinks they love me. People talk, and they talk, and they say so many things. But human beings are not like me. I don't say things I don't mean, and I have lost the ability to trust human beings and their word. It's always about who I am to them. Who can I be to them? I know that I am a woman who fights for others, and I know what I deserve. But my mistakes have defined this area that I can't change right now, I don't even like myself right now, why would anyone want to love me? I have failed almost every friendship and relationship since you left, I am a mess, I am a disaster some days, and I still pretend most of the time that I am okay. So I just sit there, some days, and talk to you, and I can't, I can't even get through a conversation. Because on the other end is silence, and knowing that if I am this deeply disappointed in who I am, when there was a time when I felt so bold, so different, so strangely wonderful, even though you loved me so unconditionally, I know you would be greatly disappointed that along the way I hurt human beings who had never wronged me.
I just know I miss you. I miss knowing that you are right behind me, whether I need someone to remind me where I come from, scold me into knowing I already know what is right or wrong, or to look at me as if I am some kind of wonderful mystery you have all sorted out. I miss knowing that I can be there to love you. And I feel like I have forgotten how to love, others, and myself, the way you did. Which is one of the biggest promises I made, to love like you did. Tonight I am just a little sad, and I've lost my way. My hope is that it's temporary and the mistakes I have made make me a better human being. That although I have friendships lost, and relationships destroyed at some capacity, at some point I respect the things that I had to lose to be someone who knew how to start over. To respect the things that mattered, that changed me, and to use them to be better to those who need me in the future. I know my worth, I have never forgotten that. I simply seemed to just be angry and needed to be selfish. I needed to be so selfish for awhile. And I can't count on the world to forgive me, but I hope you will be with me as I learn to forgive myself. And that you forgive me as well, for things you may have felt I did to you, or failed at being when I had been so much bigger than the moments we had faced before.
I simply needed to just say all of this tonight. And maybe tomorrow will be better. But tonight, I just needed it to be here.
I have thought about writing you or mom a letter and just dropping it in the mailbox, it would probably end up in the trash, but in my mind I would imagine that you would open it in a few days, and you would smile. Maybe it would allow you peace, something I feel I need, or maybe it would allow you to get a better sense of what I am feeling, because you both taught me words were everything. I often find that there are so many people who don't value them, or literature in even the smallest forms. It's very sad that the biggest form of communication is so wasted.
I would probably start by telling you the simple things. But there are so many other things on my mind.
Today was cold, more cold than any June day should be. There is a dove who sits on a neighbors roof and he coos all the time, I don't ever remember him being there until after you left. So sometimes I associate his presence with you, being they are a sign of peace. By doing this I do my best to avoid feelings of wanting to shoot him, but there are days it really is a struggle.
I woke up early, around 7:15 after closing last night, because even if I wanted to, I wouldn't be able to sleep anyways. It's always one or the other. I can't get enough sleep, or I can't seem to quiet my mind enough to allow myself rest. Either way some days I wake up and I feel like there are always four walls around me, and they are the same walls, every day. Every single day. My phone goes off and someone needs me. And I do what I need to, which some days is my bare minimum and others it is more than I have.
But I try to always be someone who can relate, who can help, but sometimes I want to be small. And yet, I don't know where that would be. In a world where we wish we were different to someone, we are who we are based on how we make others feel, and feelings change quite often.
Dad I always think about the day mom was rushed in after her seizure. That day felt like it was a building built on quicksand. No matter how I tried, everything sank, and I failed over, and over.
You met me after I called you to tell you what was going on, and while I thought I would be alone in that waiting room, you were where you always seemed to be. Waiting, to be you, to me, who you always were. And I fell apart when those doctors came in, because there were so many. I needed someone to say she was okay, but she wasn't okay. I wasn't okay. You weren't okay. And everything I had ever known in my entire life was this giant waiting game of knowing I was going to lose giant parts of myself, not in small portions like we do with those average heart breaks. But giant pieces. Parts of my identity, and there was nothing, not one single thing I could do to prevent it. Bigger than that I would have taken on any burden, for either of you, and I couldn't take this away. I couldn't save you, or keep you, or prevent any of it. I had to stand by and tell myself it was going to be okay. I had to let you die, and I didn't know how to do that. I still don't know how to do that, and you left me a long time ago.
After those doctors left I sat next to you and you looked at me as I tried so hard not to cry, unsuccessfully, and you said, I don't want this. I don't ever want to be a reason you look this way, you feel this way. I don't want this. I laughed through my tears at your statement, because although I understood, you knew that would be impossible for me. So you tried to pretend you were okay, mom pretended that she was okay, I did the same. Only I wasn't okay. So I lost you. I couldn't even explain to the people who knew me best how broken I was, so I just pretended as I have learned so well to do, that I was okay. And then mom had to go, and she fought so damn hard, and I tried not to be angry. But she had lost more than her life. I watched that woman lose so many times. Her pride, her confidence, her ability to set the world on fire, and because of someone who never took the time to even show her for a moment, that he was grateful for who she had been to him, which at times was more than she allotted my sisters and myself. Not because we meant any less, but because she was raised to value things differently, and it took me so long to understand that. Even so, she slipped away, and I stood at a desk, and asked them to take all the machines away, knowing that no one in the world would understand, not for a moment, who she was, to me, and to anyone who had the ability to know her.
Losing a parent is hard for anyone. For me it was ten years of losing, winning, proving people wrong, and never really being able to say goodbye. And then doing it twice, thirty nine days apart. I was there, because I wouldn't have been anywhere else when you died. but the last time we talked you lied to me. I know you did it to protect me, but you kept me from being able to understand so many things, and also kept me from being able to love you the way you deserved before you slipped away. Instead I held your hand, while machines dinged, and the respirator did what it could, while the iv's pumped antibiotics in your blood, but never again would I be able to tell you anything I was certain you could hear.
Those are the parts I struggle with, when it comes to you, and to her.
Other parts are more emotional, my blog is pretty desolate when it comes to followers, but there are things I simply couldn't share with anyone. Anyone but you. So I will have those moments when the time comes.
As for other things. You used to tell me not to worry about what the world thinks. There will always be critics. To worry about who I see in the mirror every day. What does she think? You told me to make her proud. But the hardest part is, I don't know who I am anymore. You both died, and then I drank so damn much I barely remember the first six months. I didn't do it to drown in sadness, I did it to avoid the sadness, until I realized one day that this wasn't who I am. I stopped drinking and got myself together. Because I wanted to be able to be the woman you raised me to be.I ended my relationship, moved out, had an affair with a married man, and I have no idea who that is. It didn't matter that he told me he was going through an ending like mine. It didn't matter that he lied to me, and used every which way to get close to me. At the end of the day I let him fool me. I kept thinking, you let someone fool you. You. I have no fucking idea who that is. I did the worst I ever have in school this last semester. Right in the middle of it Jenna died, and they had to work on her body while I stood in the hall, and all I could think was, why do I suck so much at loving people? I know her addiction isn't my fault, I know I can't prevent her from making choices that will hurt herself, but I failed to keep her safe. They were working on her body, and I couldn't for a minute think of one person who would get it, not even my sisters, because this had been so much more my journey with her than theirs, although it affected them too. I keep failing to understand who to be to any of them. I am not you. I keep trying to be this loving, guiding, and sometimes fearful force, but I am pooped out.
Then it comes with other things, you go through all of this and people think you are someone you aren't. Like you are still who you were before all of it, but better. But the truth is, I don't even know that girl anymore. Dean asked me to marry him and all I could think was, I don't know if I trust anyone who thinks they love me. People talk, and they talk, and they say so many things. But human beings are not like me. I don't say things I don't mean, and I have lost the ability to trust human beings and their word. It's always about who I am to them. Who can I be to them? I know that I am a woman who fights for others, and I know what I deserve. But my mistakes have defined this area that I can't change right now, I don't even like myself right now, why would anyone want to love me? I have failed almost every friendship and relationship since you left, I am a mess, I am a disaster some days, and I still pretend most of the time that I am okay. So I just sit there, some days, and talk to you, and I can't, I can't even get through a conversation. Because on the other end is silence, and knowing that if I am this deeply disappointed in who I am, when there was a time when I felt so bold, so different, so strangely wonderful, even though you loved me so unconditionally, I know you would be greatly disappointed that along the way I hurt human beings who had never wronged me.
I just know I miss you. I miss knowing that you are right behind me, whether I need someone to remind me where I come from, scold me into knowing I already know what is right or wrong, or to look at me as if I am some kind of wonderful mystery you have all sorted out. I miss knowing that I can be there to love you. And I feel like I have forgotten how to love, others, and myself, the way you did. Which is one of the biggest promises I made, to love like you did. Tonight I am just a little sad, and I've lost my way. My hope is that it's temporary and the mistakes I have made make me a better human being. That although I have friendships lost, and relationships destroyed at some capacity, at some point I respect the things that I had to lose to be someone who knew how to start over. To respect the things that mattered, that changed me, and to use them to be better to those who need me in the future. I know my worth, I have never forgotten that. I simply seemed to just be angry and needed to be selfish. I needed to be so selfish for awhile. And I can't count on the world to forgive me, but I hope you will be with me as I learn to forgive myself. And that you forgive me as well, for things you may have felt I did to you, or failed at being when I had been so much bigger than the moments we had faced before.
I simply needed to just say all of this tonight. And maybe tomorrow will be better. But tonight, I just needed it to be here.
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