Sometimes it just hits me out of nowhere....

My dad is dead. He commited suicide. That is not normal. It is not normal to be turning 28 this week and not have my father. He was only 55 and to think last week he would of been two years away from turning 60 but he never got there. He worked his whole life for his retirement and for his grandbabies. Life is not fair by a long freakin shot.

Last night I took Miss G and went to a block party at my moms new subdivision. I had of course hoped that all of the people would be widows my mothers age but that wasn't even close to the reality. They were all young people my age with kids and my mother felt a little out of place. We ate a couple hot dogs and Miss G bounced on one of those blow up things and we walked back to moms house. Nobody even noticed us yet I wanted to scream "Hey ya'll this is my mom here and be nice to her because she lives alone and her husband is dead so she needs lots of love". She deserves to be embraced by lots of people who care about her and love her and I wish I could be all of that for her and I try with all my heart but I just cant. I am not enough.

Its been very hard for me when I think of my mom begin alone since my dad died. For the first year I couldnt stand to watch my mother leave my house alone. She would come to visit me and the kids and just watching her pull out of the driveway in my dads car alone would send me into a full on screaming tantrum the second she turned the corner. One time I even had the neighbor come and wrap her arms around me because I was lying in my driveway with my head in my hands, fetal positon crying rivers. No one knows this. I quickly composed myself and just told her it had been a bad week and went inside. I dont like to talk about his suicide to many people. They just dont get it.

So we went back to her house and I was looking in her china cabinet at all her pretty things and pulled out the fabrege egg I brought her back from San Fran a couple years ago. I think I gave it to her the first Christmas my dad wasnt here. She had always wanted him to give her one but he never did. Anyways, she asked me if I wanted to see her wedding ring again. My father had gotten her a "New" nicer, bigger ring on thier 20th anniversary and when he died she took it off and put it inside a ceramic cross box in her china cabinet. But, I didn't know before I opened it is that it held all of the rings. My moms first wedding ring, my dad's ring and then my moms new ring. When I saw my dads ring I almost dropped the whole box and crumpled to the floor. I had not seen his ring since before he died. It took about two seconds for the tears to come. I had not weeped like that in months. I can't tell you how many times I embraced my fathers hand in church and stared down at his big hand with my little fingers entwined with his and turned that ring around and around on his finger. Then later on as we both grew older I would always make it a game during church to see if I could get that ring off his finger since it had gotten a little smaller in his older years. I remember all those years I worked with my dad and watched him write out his paperwork and it was always that ring staring back at me as the focal point on his hand. It was something my dad wore every single day since they married and something I saw on his hand every single day since the day I was born. Now, here it was all alone inside this ceramic box almost mocking me that there was such an absense of him there. So, seeing it again sent me into a tailspin of emotion. I quickly put the ring back inside the box, told my mom I just couldn't do this right now and closed the cabinet. I turned away from my mother who I could see tearing up also in the corner of my eye and told her I needed to use the bathroom. I must of spent a good 30 minutes in there trying to compose myself. I just kept thinking about how mom doesn't need to deal with me being sad when she deals with her own sadness every single second of her waking day.

When I got home last night I felt really numb inside. I felt like all of my happiness had been sucked from my body. Who is there to embrace me? Who is here to tell me it will be ok? Will it ever be ok? Will anyone every understand this? There is no one there for me! The first couple of years all of the questions started with why and now they all start with will and who or where. Mr. G was sitting on the couch when I came in exhausted from taking care of Little G all night and yet still so wrapped up in his own little world of problems he couldn't possibly have noticed how upset I was. He has no clue how my dads death affects every second of my day. Its something we need to resolve because he just wont talk about my dads death and I need to talk about it with someone. It needs to be him. As I came to bed and cried to myself after he had fallen asleep I heard a whimper from the pack n play. Little G needed his boobies and suddenly it was like I was instantly pulled back into reality. The tears stopped and I pulled my precious baby into the bed to feed him and to feel alive again. Living for what I have now and not focusing on the pain of the past that is what makes me feel alive now.

Comments

[Marisa]

I'm so sorry for your loss and your pain. I couldn't even imagine. I think you are strong and full of love and I'm glad you could open up a little about your feelings. I'm listening :) Happy Birthday btw :)

- Marisa

[Monica C.]

I am so sorry for what you have been through. I'm so thankful that you have the good memories, but am so sorry that you have experienced tragedy and loss. I know it all just makes your children and family all the more special! Please know you can always hit me up on e-mail if you ever need to "talk."

[Karen Hatch]

I lost my dad to colon cancer three years ago last month. Before he died he shut all of us out and mostly refused to communicate with us.

Three years later I feel exactly the way you do: it is almost just as painful as the first day and I cry every day.

Not that that helps you. But sometimes I feel like I should be moving on and I can't. Even with a my husband and children and siblings and maother who grieve as heavily still as I do, I feel alone. I wanted to let you know that you're not alone.