I lost my dad in 2013. Now that it's 2015, it sounds like such a long time ago. If there's one thing I have learned about losing someone close to you it is that grief is in no way a linear process. In fact, I feel like I'm only starting to grieve the loss of my father.
While he was still alive and nearing the end stages of cancer, I remember thinking that I was already in the "acceptance" phase. That we had, together, gone through denial and anger and sadness and bargaining and that we had accepted that, at some point, this disease would take him. And even for the first year after-- I thought "I'm handling this pretty well." When in fact-- I probably wasn't handling it at all.
It's a weird thing. I was almost able to convince myself that it was just a matter of time until I could call him. Like I just hadn't spoken to him in a while, not that he was actually gone. And when that urge to call him came up I would just say "I'll talk to him later." Apparently that was my way on denying this whole thing ever happened. And then Thanksgiving 2014 approached and all of a sudden all those words I kept telling myself were no longer working and it occurred to me that maybe it was time for me to actually grieve my loss. So, for the past 2 months that's what I've been trying to let myself do. Cry. And cry a lot.
This has made me realize that in our society there seems to be some unwritten rules about grief and loss. The first, is that it's a private matter. What would you say if someone came up to you, started tearing up, and said "A year ago I lost my dad and I'm just real sad about it now?" Before, I would have thought... all right... get yourself together... it's been a year! But my views on grieving have definitely changed! For me, I haven't really talked about the loss with anyone besides my mom and sometimes my sister. It's been difficult to talk to my boyfriend about it because they were not able to meet. He has no emotional connection to my dad. So to him, my dad's death isn't really a loss. Just in the same way that his grandmother that died wasn't a loss to me because I never knew her. ((It makes me wonder though how much better people would be if they were able to share their grief with others openly?!))
It's also weird the things that I think of and can remember when it comes to losing him. I recently drove to Kingman over New Year's and I cried the majority of the way. Remember that one time you had to leave a big family dinner and drive by yourself to say goodbye to your dying father? Remember how you tried to celebrate Thanksgiving and then your birthday and then Christmas without him? And how every year from now on that will be the case?
This post has actually been hard to write because I feel like I have to defend my grief to others. There were several times when I had to take out words like "don't get me wrong I feel blessed to have had last moments with him" and "I feel lucky to have made it there in time" etc. But I shouldn't have to say things like that because all it does is invalidate my sadness. Because even if those things are true, it doesn't take away the sting I feel when I think about calling him and remembering there is no one to call. Or when I see pictures of my cousins with all their children playing with their papas and knowing that my future kids will never get that, or when people talk about spending the weekends with their dads, or when I see pictures of dads walking their daughters down the aisles at their weddings. Those all sting, and to say they don't isn't fair to me.
I also wonder often if others grieve for him still. I barely talk to my cousins at this point. And it seems odd to call my uncles. At times it feels like my dad was the only link holding us together. They have their own lives and their own families, and sometimes I feel like I'm left here to carry all this grief alone. And then on the other hand I wonder if it's really me having a hard time reaching out to them because of the amount of grief I'm holding. I think I have been viewing my grief as a burden-- one that I don't want to pass along to other people.
Recently, I read something about grief: "Grief is like waves of the ocean. Sometimes the water doesn't reach you. Sometimes it comes up around your toes or your ankles or can swirl all the way up around your knees. And sometimes a big wave comes and knocks you right off your feet." That is definitely the most accurate thing I have found to describe my grief. Most days I'm fine and I can see my grief there- out on the horizon- but it's okay. And then there are some mornings (like today) where the waves just engulf me and I'm left trying to swim my way back to the top.
But writing this all out has gotten the waves back down to at least my shins. And putting this all out to the universe has made me feel a bit lighter.
So if you did make it this far down- thank you for letting me share my grief with you.
Thursday, January 15, 2015
Saturday, November 30, 2013
Day 4
How has it only been 4 days? It feels like I'm being tricked and you're not really gone. It is almost like you are just out hunting and fishing or you are visiting grandma. We just keep waiting for you to call us. To check in and tell us you are all right. I know it isn't going to happen, but I would be lying if I didn't say a part of me keeps hoping you will, and this is all just a nightmare. And I won't have to live the rest of my life without my dad and I won't have to walk myself down the aisle when (if) I get married and I won't have to tell my children about their papa only using pictures.
So here I sit, waiting for a phone call that I know isn't going to come.
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
Day 1-- the weird feeling
I feel weird.
Like I'm in some foggy place and this all must be a bad dream, right?
I already had the urge to call him this afternoon and it had only been 5 hours since he had passed.
And then I remembered.
And then I felt weird again.
I know none of this probably makes sense to you.
And my guess is that it doesn't make sense to you because it doesn't even make sense to me yet.
If one more person tells me that he is in a better place, I'm going to punch them in the nose.
Because I know he is. And I'm relieved he is not suffering anymore.
But it doesn't make this whole thing feel any better.
I like to hear stories of him. And ideas about what he may be doing now.
The celebrations he is having with the people who he said goodbye to years ago.
And how people's lives were affected for the better because they had known him.
Because those don't feel weird.
They feel validating because then I know that I was right to have admired this man so much.
There is going to be a mess of emotions through all of this, I know.
But for right now, I just feel weird.
Like I'm in some foggy place and this all must be a bad dream, right?
I already had the urge to call him this afternoon and it had only been 5 hours since he had passed.
And then I remembered.
And then I felt weird again.
I know none of this probably makes sense to you.
And my guess is that it doesn't make sense to you because it doesn't even make sense to me yet.
If one more person tells me that he is in a better place, I'm going to punch them in the nose.
Because I know he is. And I'm relieved he is not suffering anymore.
But it doesn't make this whole thing feel any better.
I like to hear stories of him. And ideas about what he may be doing now.
The celebrations he is having with the people who he said goodbye to years ago.
And how people's lives were affected for the better because they had known him.
Because those don't feel weird.
They feel validating because then I know that I was right to have admired this man so much.
There is going to be a mess of emotions through all of this, I know.
But for right now, I just feel weird.
Friday, November 15, 2013
Sometimes I'm scared about putting things out in the universe... and sometimes I'm not.
I feel like my life has been crazy for the past 2 years. The whole "flying-by-the-seat-of-your-pants" saying... that's how I feel mostly. It all started when I had the urge to move back to AZ. Urge, prompting... call it what you wish. But one day, I woke up and knew I needed to leave NY and move back to AZ. While I tried feverishly to get a job in Phoenix, I couldn't find anything and had to move back in with my parents for several months.
Soon after moving back, my dad lost the majority of his voice. My parents let it go on for a while, but I had a sneaking suspicion that something was wrong. Finally, he agreed to go to the doctor to get it checked out. While the doctor said that everything checked out fine, he still suggested further testing. To make a long story short, it was lung cancer. And not just in the lung-- but the lymph nodes, the adrenal gland, and the hip. Surgery-- not an option. Radiation-- not an option.
I wasn't surprised when we found out it was cancer, but I was still shocked at the same time if that makes any sense.
My dad has now had several months of chemo. And it really hasn't work. Now, I'm not a tree-hugger all the time, but despite what the "doctors" said, I don't think chemo was the best way to go. Because now he is weak. He is sick and he is a skeleton. I almost feel like we were lied to so that they could bill his insurance. Anyway, I'm not trying to be all conspiracy-theorist, but I have significant reservations when it comes to pharmaceuticals in general.
They finally had to put a feeding tube in him. Not like a tube that goes down your nose. Like, surgically, put a tube through his stomach so he can have nutritional drinks that will hopefully help him gain weight. He lost 7 pounds this last week. I think it is about a grand total of 80 lbs. He still eats fairly normally albeit smaller portions, and I just don't understand HOW he is losing weight so quickly.
In addition to that... this always seems to be the hardest part for me to talk about... is when we found out that the cancer had spread to his brain in the form of 9 or so tumors. I know what that means. Possible seizures, cognitive impairment, falls, etc. One of my biggest fears is losing the man I know to be charming, quick witted, and fiesty. I'm scared his personality will be gone before his body and he won't know us the same way anymore.
Don't get me wrong. This isn't all about me. I worry about how my sister will respond when he passes, because her ability to handle stress isn't always that great. I worry about how my mom will take care of herself when he is gone because her whole identity seems to be wrapped up in being his caregiver. I become emotional when I think of all the things that my dad will miss... my sister and I getting married (assuming that actually happens). His grandchildren. For a man that loves little children so much, I always looked forward to the days when my children would have a good grandfather.
I also worry about what it will look like when he does die. Will it be a scary experience for him? Or will he be sleeping? At peace? In pain? What will he be doing when it happens? What will I be doing? Will I be by his side and will I know this is the end?
There are just so many questions and not enough answers for me. And for those of you who know me-- I like to have answers! I like predictability and to be informed. Throughout this whole journey, I haven't felt like I've known what is going on, and while I've definitely learned to be more patient at times, that doesn't mean I have to like it.
Anyway, per usual, this post doesn't necessarily have a rhyme or reason. Sometimes, I just need things to be out in the universe so I can sleep at night and get up to take on another day.
Soon after moving back, my dad lost the majority of his voice. My parents let it go on for a while, but I had a sneaking suspicion that something was wrong. Finally, he agreed to go to the doctor to get it checked out. While the doctor said that everything checked out fine, he still suggested further testing. To make a long story short, it was lung cancer. And not just in the lung-- but the lymph nodes, the adrenal gland, and the hip. Surgery-- not an option. Radiation-- not an option.
I wasn't surprised when we found out it was cancer, but I was still shocked at the same time if that makes any sense.
My dad has now had several months of chemo. And it really hasn't work. Now, I'm not a tree-hugger all the time, but despite what the "doctors" said, I don't think chemo was the best way to go. Because now he is weak. He is sick and he is a skeleton. I almost feel like we were lied to so that they could bill his insurance. Anyway, I'm not trying to be all conspiracy-theorist, but I have significant reservations when it comes to pharmaceuticals in general.
They finally had to put a feeding tube in him. Not like a tube that goes down your nose. Like, surgically, put a tube through his stomach so he can have nutritional drinks that will hopefully help him gain weight. He lost 7 pounds this last week. I think it is about a grand total of 80 lbs. He still eats fairly normally albeit smaller portions, and I just don't understand HOW he is losing weight so quickly.
In addition to that... this always seems to be the hardest part for me to talk about... is when we found out that the cancer had spread to his brain in the form of 9 or so tumors. I know what that means. Possible seizures, cognitive impairment, falls, etc. One of my biggest fears is losing the man I know to be charming, quick witted, and fiesty. I'm scared his personality will be gone before his body and he won't know us the same way anymore.
Don't get me wrong. This isn't all about me. I worry about how my sister will respond when he passes, because her ability to handle stress isn't always that great. I worry about how my mom will take care of herself when he is gone because her whole identity seems to be wrapped up in being his caregiver. I become emotional when I think of all the things that my dad will miss... my sister and I getting married (assuming that actually happens). His grandchildren. For a man that loves little children so much, I always looked forward to the days when my children would have a good grandfather.
I also worry about what it will look like when he does die. Will it be a scary experience for him? Or will he be sleeping? At peace? In pain? What will he be doing when it happens? What will I be doing? Will I be by his side and will I know this is the end?
There are just so many questions and not enough answers for me. And for those of you who know me-- I like to have answers! I like predictability and to be informed. Throughout this whole journey, I haven't felt like I've known what is going on, and while I've definitely learned to be more patient at times, that doesn't mean I have to like it.
Anyway, per usual, this post doesn't necessarily have a rhyme or reason. Sometimes, I just need things to be out in the universe so I can sleep at night and get up to take on another day.
Friday, July 29, 2011
Why I'm Coming Home
Since the news of my impending departure has officially been announced, I have had numerous people approach me and question what prompts my move back to the sunny state of Arizona. Initially my move to the east coast was supposed to be a five-month long stint at best. Well, five months became a year, which became another year.
I had been toying with the idea of moving back to AZ... pretty much since I moved to NY, I just didn't have a reason to pack my suitcase and go back. It was nice to experience a different part of the country (NYC is like another culture in itself), and it almost felt surreal-- like I was "living the life" that a lot of people wish they could try out. But I just couldn't shake this feeling of sadness that I had-- a feeling of loneliness that would occasionally occupy my body for weeks at a time. I couldn't figure out what was wrong with me.
My perspective on things started to change once I started working at an adolescent shelter about a year ago. The kind of kids that come in here (as big a pains as they are) are some of the strongest, brightest, and best kids I have ever met. They have been through so much and they are still living. I've had kids who were abused by their parents, raped in foster care, in the midst of an eating disorder, trying to escape the gang life, or trying to escape their pimp.
I've had kids who come in with absolutely no idea what the next step in their life will be. They have no idea where they are going to go, or who will take care of them. I have sat with sick kids in the hospital. I've listened to their problems and fears and hopes and goals. I have had kids whose parents have no legal rights to them anymore. Kids without any family to love them, to talk to them, to feed them, and to keep them safe.
When I went home for my family reunion, it hit me. I had all that HERE-- in AZ, with my family. The "thing" I was waiting to find in NY to make me feel more secure was not there at all, but on the other side of the country. I realized I was practically giving up what most of the kids in the shelter are so desperately fighting for.
I have learned so much from my interactions with so many teenagers. The kids have taught me patience, understanding, and resiliency. But the most important lesson they have shared is to fight to be with the people you love. And that's what I am going to do.
I had been toying with the idea of moving back to AZ... pretty much since I moved to NY, I just didn't have a reason to pack my suitcase and go back. It was nice to experience a different part of the country (NYC is like another culture in itself), and it almost felt surreal-- like I was "living the life" that a lot of people wish they could try out. But I just couldn't shake this feeling of sadness that I had-- a feeling of loneliness that would occasionally occupy my body for weeks at a time. I couldn't figure out what was wrong with me.
My perspective on things started to change once I started working at an adolescent shelter about a year ago. The kind of kids that come in here (as big a pains as they are) are some of the strongest, brightest, and best kids I have ever met. They have been through so much and they are still living. I've had kids who were abused by their parents, raped in foster care, in the midst of an eating disorder, trying to escape the gang life, or trying to escape their pimp.
I've had kids who come in with absolutely no idea what the next step in their life will be. They have no idea where they are going to go, or who will take care of them. I have sat with sick kids in the hospital. I've listened to their problems and fears and hopes and goals. I have had kids whose parents have no legal rights to them anymore. Kids without any family to love them, to talk to them, to feed them, and to keep them safe.
When I went home for my family reunion, it hit me. I had all that HERE-- in AZ, with my family. The "thing" I was waiting to find in NY to make me feel more secure was not there at all, but on the other side of the country. I realized I was practically giving up what most of the kids in the shelter are so desperately fighting for.
I have learned so much from my interactions with so many teenagers. The kids have taught me patience, understanding, and resiliency. But the most important lesson they have shared is to fight to be with the people you love. And that's what I am going to do.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Big News!
Hi Everyone,
It's been a while. For some time, I had to hide my blog because I had a stalker, but they appear to be gone and therefore this blog is now active. Now, time for the BIG NEWS: I'm relocating! The time has come for me to depart from the east coast and come back to my home state of Arizona.
Everything is in its preliminary stages, but a tentative departure date has been set for September 17th. I have a lot to do before the big move and it will be quite an adventure. Because I still have 2 years left on the lease for Albus (my car) I will be driving across the country with all my stuff. According to google maps that will take approximately 40 hours to drive from Harrison, NY to Kingman, AZ-- 2,506 miles.
Don't worry, I'll only be in Kingman for a short time and will then continue my journey down to Phoenix AKA The Surface of the Sun to find a job and housing. New York has been great but I'm so ready to start this new chapter in my life! It's gonna be great!
It's been a while. For some time, I had to hide my blog because I had a stalker, but they appear to be gone and therefore this blog is now active. Now, time for the BIG NEWS: I'm relocating! The time has come for me to depart from the east coast and come back to my home state of Arizona.
Everything is in its preliminary stages, but a tentative departure date has been set for September 17th. I have a lot to do before the big move and it will be quite an adventure. Because I still have 2 years left on the lease for Albus (my car) I will be driving across the country with all my stuff. According to google maps that will take approximately 40 hours to drive from Harrison, NY to Kingman, AZ-- 2,506 miles.
Don't worry, I'll only be in Kingman for a short time and will then continue my journey down to Phoenix AKA The Surface of the Sun to find a job and housing. New York has been great but I'm so ready to start this new chapter in my life! It's gonna be great!
Sunday, March 28, 2010
We Met At the Walmart
I know the Walmart has its perks-- like cheap candy and brownie mix and flip flops in 500 colors, but I didn't know it was a place to pick up your next date. Let me explain:
My sister and I went to Walmart to get a Wii Remote (apparently you need more than one to do anything productive...), then we found the $5 movie bin/shelf (favorite!), so casually we start looking around when a guy walks up behind my sister and asks if she has seen the Cheech and Chong (?) movie that was in front of her. The conversation goes as follows (and most of this is direct quote)
Boy: You smoke weed?
Girl: I used to but not anymore.
Boy: Are you going to start up again?
Girl: No.
Boy: That sucks.
[[RED FLAG #1-- a guy that starts a conversation off asking about your drug use and inferring to his own cannot be good news]]
Boy: Have you seen Half-Baked?
Girl: No.
Boy: It's about getting high. It's BEEP hilarious, it's like my favorite
Girl: Oh okay.
[[RED FLAG #2-- a guy who's favorite movie has to do with illegal drug use cannot be good news]]
Boy: You have a boyfriend?
Girl: No.
Boy: Are you married?
Girl: No.
**Interjection by baffled, yet smarter older sister "Are you really trying to pick my sister up at the Walmart. That's classy...** (He ignored me btw)
[[RED FLAG #3-- a guy who ignores the smarter, older sister who is trying to watch out for her little sister cannot be good news]]
Boy: What are you doing tomorrow?
Girl: I have court.
Boy: Is your judge McCoy?
Girl: Yeah, how'd you know?
Boy: I just got out of jail a few days ago.
[[RED FLAGS #4 AND #5-- a guy who not only knows the names of the judges downtown but ALSO just got out of jail himself CANNOT be good news]]
Girl: What did you do?
Boy: Threatening and intimidation and then I got in trouble in jail for breaking a sprinkler.
[[RED FLAG #6-- Do I REALLY need to explain?]]
**Interjection by still baffled and appalled older sister, "We have to go... like now."
Boy: Can I get your phone number?
Girl: Actually just give me yours and I will text you
Boy: I don't have a phone
Girl: Oh...
Boy: Do you have a paper and pen and I'll get yours?
Girl: No.
Boy walks to cashier to request said items
**Interjection by older sister-- "Hurry he's not looking, let's go."
Girl to big sister: I'm giving him my disconnected number.
Sister: Ok.
Boy comes back and girl gives fake number. Sister and girl leave ASAP. Boy follows to say:
"Oh my name is James, call you tomorrow."
[Red Flag #7-- a guy who tries to pick you up at Walmart in the first place cannot be good news]
End scene.
Okay, so I know I'm in Kingman and Kingman is pretty well known for its trashy people and the low average number of teeth per person (common joke: It's only called a toothbrush in Kingman because everywhere else it'd have to be called a teethbrush...) but picking up chicks at the Walmart is not cute. It's even more "not cute" if you happen to have just been released from lockup. AND... who throws that in the first pick up conversation anyhow?
Pick up line: Girl, you's was all up in my mind when I was doing 30 days behinds bars for not being able to control my anger.
Anyway, this baffled older sister was very much reminded as to why she got the hell out of Kingman and why she'd never move back... ever. Thanks James.
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