What a month it has been; non-stop work, family activities, house stuff, and just being plain old busy has occupied almost every day. I barely have time to catch my breath! Along with being busy, some health issues have popped up so I'm trying my best to not overwhelm myself too much. I want to just pause time a little and enjoy my favorite month slowly!
October is such a fun month but it's also packed with some emotional baggage. XH and I split up three years ago this month. I didn't even realize the date until late that night when I finally checked my Timehop app. I was surprised that I hadn't remembered and laughed at myself a little. I was so utterly destroyed a mere three years ago and now here I am, it's been quite a journey and transformation. What started out as total devastation ended up being the most amazing opportunity for me. If I could go back in time I wouldn't change a thing, I'm exactly where I want to be and I am exactly who I want to be. I'm so damn grateful for the last three years because the beauty that sprung up out of so much ugly has been just completely mind-blowing.
October is also the month that my Dad started hospice. Four years ago this month, we started his final journey. I'm sad that it's already creeping up on four years since he died. So much has changed and is continuing to change and I just desperately wish he were here to experience it all with us. I miss him with an ache that I feel deep to my soul. I can't explain how it feels so differently from other grief I've experienced and I can't express just how deeply the cut goes but I can tell you that living with it is sometimes very hard. Time has helped me adjust to living with it though but that doesn't make it easier, it just makes it manageable.
What I've learned though is that life goes on and you can either keep up with it or get left behind. I chose to not only keep up but to toss laughter, sarcasm, and pink glitter everywhere I go...with just a dash of hope. Because the best way to counteract the sad parts is with all the good you can!
Showing posts with label grief. Show all posts
Showing posts with label grief. Show all posts
October 13, 2015
August 22, 2015
Since he's been gone
My Dad's birthday was this week, he would have turned 58. I imagine we all would have gone out to eat and then gathered around him with a cake lit with bunches of candles. He'd tease the grandkids, my big brother and him would talk about work, and he'd bicker with my Mom over mundane things. It would be the same scene that played out over and over throughout the years. Funny how you don't realize how much the same ol' thing means to you until you don't have it anymore.
Instead, we all spent the day pulled into different directions. Acknowledging the day through group texts and a quick mention when we did happen to see each other. Only a couple of us made it to the cemetery, something I feel extremely guilty about now because I didn't make it out there. I was too swamped with work, playing catch up after a weekend spent at the hospital with my sick grandma. I was up late that night, after the house had long gone silent. I made my way outside to sit beneath the dark sky and just started talking to my Dad. Wished him a happy birthday, if he even celebrates it in Heaven. Told him how much I miss and love him, reminisced a little. I made my way back inside afterward and crept into bed next to a man whom my Dad never laid eyes on. It just struck me as so very odd. And incredibly sad.
Almost daily I remark to M how much I wish they could have met. How sad I am that he will never meet the man who is my hero. My Dad only exists to him through memories and pictures, which never really capture the true essence of a person. And really, how could they? How could they convey how truly funny, sarcastic, and strong a person was? A picture doesn't tell you the way they spoke with a Texas twang, or the goofy laugh he did when truly amused by something. It doesn't reveal the man who always had an answer, who could explain every heartache in a way that made sense, or who was always up for a good adventure. They fail to show him the greatest man I've ever known. The man who helped make me the woman I am. The woman M loves so much, the woman who fought tooth and nail to be this person he adores.
I so wish things were different. I wish he were here to see all the life that has happened since he's been gone. I wish I could talk to him, see him, hug him, laugh with him. I guess I'll always wish for more of him. People tell me that's just a part of living life with a deceased loved one. Always wishing for just one more day.
I gotta be honest, it's a real bitch.
Instead, we all spent the day pulled into different directions. Acknowledging the day through group texts and a quick mention when we did happen to see each other. Only a couple of us made it to the cemetery, something I feel extremely guilty about now because I didn't make it out there. I was too swamped with work, playing catch up after a weekend spent at the hospital with my sick grandma. I was up late that night, after the house had long gone silent. I made my way outside to sit beneath the dark sky and just started talking to my Dad. Wished him a happy birthday, if he even celebrates it in Heaven. Told him how much I miss and love him, reminisced a little. I made my way back inside afterward and crept into bed next to a man whom my Dad never laid eyes on. It just struck me as so very odd. And incredibly sad.
Almost daily I remark to M how much I wish they could have met. How sad I am that he will never meet the man who is my hero. My Dad only exists to him through memories and pictures, which never really capture the true essence of a person. And really, how could they? How could they convey how truly funny, sarcastic, and strong a person was? A picture doesn't tell you the way they spoke with a Texas twang, or the goofy laugh he did when truly amused by something. It doesn't reveal the man who always had an answer, who could explain every heartache in a way that made sense, or who was always up for a good adventure. They fail to show him the greatest man I've ever known. The man who helped make me the woman I am. The woman M loves so much, the woman who fought tooth and nail to be this person he adores.
I so wish things were different. I wish he were here to see all the life that has happened since he's been gone. I wish I could talk to him, see him, hug him, laugh with him. I guess I'll always wish for more of him. People tell me that's just a part of living life with a deceased loved one. Always wishing for just one more day.
I gotta be honest, it's a real bitch.
December 2, 2014
3 Years Since I Lost My Dad
Some days I am just overflowing with words, thoughts, and emotions, they just seem to pour out of me. But then there are those days where there are no words. Today is an incredibly odd mix of both- no words but plenty of thoughts and emotions.
Today is 3 years since my Dad died.
3 whole years without him. 3 whole years in which my entire life turned upside down. 3 whole years and a million tears. Missing him even more than I ever thought was possible and aching for just one more chance to see him, or talk to him, or hug him, or hear him say my name. Oh man, I'd give just about anything for just one more of everything.
I look for him in everyone and in everything. Cousins suddenly look like him or share a personality trait. A random but significant song on the radio is surely a message from him. A ladybug landing on me is obviously his way of showing his presence. I could go on and on with these anecdotes, I have hundreds. But what it really comes down to is my longing for more. I yearn to feel him just one more time so I'm constantly searching for him. And so shall it be for the rest of my life.
His death has changed everything. Time has changed nothing. It still hurts, I'm still sad, I still cry, I still miss him. It goes without saying that I still love my Dad, his death has altered how I can love him but it hasn't touched the depth.
Today is 3 years since my Dad died.
3 whole years without him. 3 whole years in which my entire life turned upside down. 3 whole years and a million tears. Missing him even more than I ever thought was possible and aching for just one more chance to see him, or talk to him, or hug him, or hear him say my name. Oh man, I'd give just about anything for just one more of everything.
I look for him in everyone and in everything. Cousins suddenly look like him or share a personality trait. A random but significant song on the radio is surely a message from him. A ladybug landing on me is obviously his way of showing his presence. I could go on and on with these anecdotes, I have hundreds. But what it really comes down to is my longing for more. I yearn to feel him just one more time so I'm constantly searching for him. And so shall it be for the rest of my life.
His death has changed everything. Time has changed nothing. It still hurts, I'm still sad, I still cry, I still miss him. It goes without saying that I still love my Dad, his death has altered how I can love him but it hasn't touched the depth.
June 10, 2014
Dear Dad,
Father's Day is coming up and I'm dreading this year even more than previous years. I guess I thought it might get a little easier as more time went by but it's actually the opposite. And it's not exactly that it's getting worse, it's just that it's getting more challenging, I suppose. But I'm not even sure that's the right word either. It's like there is this huge gap between us now and the more time that passes between now and the last time you were alive just widens the gulf. That gulf is what makes it harder as more time passes. It just makes it so much more real that you are really gone. More real that the longer I live, the more I have to experience without you. I really have to live the rest of my life without you and that just doesn't make any sense to me. Not when I still need you so much.
It's weird to me that you are missing out on so much in our lives. Weird that there is now this man in my life who you will never meet. I often say to the Cowboy just how much I wish you two could meet. I wonder what you would think about him, if you would get along with him. It messes with me that you only exist to him in my memories and in the pictures I show him. And I do talk about you often to him, everyone actually does. He often tells me what other people say to him about you. What cousins, uncles, aunts and my siblings say. The little funny stories they share about you help make you more alive to him. He tells me he wishes he had met you too because you sound like such an amazing guy and I just shake my head sadly and tell him he doesn't know the half of it yet.
As much as I try to not think about the future, my over-thinking mind sometimes just can't help it. I think about getting married again and how sad it'll make me to not have you walk me down the aisle or dance with me. I get even more sad when I think about not being able to see your expression when I announce a pregnancy because I know how excited you got every time you found out another grandchild was on the way. I hate that I'll never see you hold my baby. That my baby will grow up with only your memories. I had a dream recently that I had just given birth and when they placed the baby on me, I started crying and whispered to him, "Your Grandpa loves you so much and will always be watching over you." And I know that I'll probably say that exact thing whenever the time does come.
I know that I'll go out to see you on Sunday and we'll talk about you all day, probably shed a few tears. We're BBQing because that was your favorite thing. You will simultaneously feel both more alive and more gone to us. I hate it all because it's just the emptiest feeling to visit a cemetery and talk to a slab of stone. I'm glad you're no longer in pain and I know you are watching over us but I miss you so much that miss doesn't even scratch the surface, I need a stronger word for miss. I need you.
It's weird to me that you are missing out on so much in our lives. Weird that there is now this man in my life who you will never meet. I often say to the Cowboy just how much I wish you two could meet. I wonder what you would think about him, if you would get along with him. It messes with me that you only exist to him in my memories and in the pictures I show him. And I do talk about you often to him, everyone actually does. He often tells me what other people say to him about you. What cousins, uncles, aunts and my siblings say. The little funny stories they share about you help make you more alive to him. He tells me he wishes he had met you too because you sound like such an amazing guy and I just shake my head sadly and tell him he doesn't know the half of it yet.
As much as I try to not think about the future, my over-thinking mind sometimes just can't help it. I think about getting married again and how sad it'll make me to not have you walk me down the aisle or dance with me. I get even more sad when I think about not being able to see your expression when I announce a pregnancy because I know how excited you got every time you found out another grandchild was on the way. I hate that I'll never see you hold my baby. That my baby will grow up with only your memories. I had a dream recently that I had just given birth and when they placed the baby on me, I started crying and whispered to him, "Your Grandpa loves you so much and will always be watching over you." And I know that I'll probably say that exact thing whenever the time does come.
I know that I'll go out to see you on Sunday and we'll talk about you all day, probably shed a few tears. We're BBQing because that was your favorite thing. You will simultaneously feel both more alive and more gone to us. I hate it all because it's just the emptiest feeling to visit a cemetery and talk to a slab of stone. I'm glad you're no longer in pain and I know you are watching over us but I miss you so much that miss doesn't even scratch the surface, I need a stronger word for miss. I need you.
February 26, 2014
More Lessons on Grief
My divorce is like a never-ending story, it just seems to always be something. Per our divorce agreement, I won a certain amount of his assets. Getting my hands on said assets is proving to be a headache. One that is resulting in more paperwork and loops to jump through. It's just annoying because it often involves me having to communicate with C, which isn't my favorite thing to do these days, no matter now friendly we are. Because, well, we have a love/hate relationship and to be honest, we've always known how to push each others buttons and we enjoy doing that. Basically, we're both immature but ehh, whatever.
We take turns pissing each other off and usually I am over it within the same day because I think it's stupid for me to be angry with my ex-husband. But C takes it to the extreme, as usual. And I'm not sure what I did or said this time but obviously it was something because when he's pissy with me, he won't speak to me or return calls, texts or emails. It's the most annoying damn thing. I'm trying to get information from him and he's not cooperating. Way to breach our agreement, you sorry SOB.
I received some paperwork in the mail the other day pertaining to all this. I was going over it and literally not understanding a word because legal jargon just makes my eyes cross when a particular sentence jumped out at me: .....Legal blah blah blah....[C and Amanda] were married July 15, 2006 and divorced December 18, 2013. I just stopped for a second and couldn't breathe. Right there in black and white, all legal and shit. Never mind that we've been split up for 16 months. Never mind that we've both spewed hateful words at each other. Never mind that I have another man sleeping in my bed or that he has a girlfriend. Never mind that I've seen the actual divorce decree with the judge's signature and official TX seal. Nothing made it real until I saw it written like that. It bothered me.
Divorce wasn't something that was suppose to happen to C and me, not us. Hell, we were C and Amanda for so long that I didn't know anything else. I knew him better than I knew myself; every scar, every freckle, every story. I took care of him after surgeries, when he was sick and washed his damn boxers. 13 years of love notes, gifts and memories that became meaningless in a single sentence: I want a divorce. I know I'm happier now, I know that I've found a me that I had lost over the course of our marriage but it doesn't make it ok. Nothing will make it ok because I took our marriage seriously and it failed. I failed, he failed, we failed. And that sucks.
Dealing with infertility and my Dad's death, I've learned that grief is entirely it's own entity. A very real emotion that demands attention, often at the oddest moments. One that comes and goes as it pleases. One you can't predict, even when you try. Dealing with my divorce, I've learned that grief isn't an emotion that ends, it just evolves. It changes and morphs into emotions you can't possibly understand. It affects every aspect of yourself and fighting that is futile. You just have to accept that grief is in your life now, permanently. It will always be there, a dark shadow lurking in the background of your life and all it's moments. It's far-reaching and unforgiving.
But, living with grief, while it changes you, it also shows you things about yourself that you never knew or appreciated. For instance, it taught me that I have to enjoy life. I have to endure my life. I have to keep living because grief has taught me just how precious life is. Just how amazing laughing with your loved ones truly is. Just how amazing it is when someone expands their family. Just how amazing a supportive and loving partner is. I marvel at the smallest things now and openly express my feelings because you are never guaranteed another.
It's a double-edged sword. And I'd much rather have my Dad alive and to have never experienced the pain of infertility or divorce. But, since I have experienced those pains, I live with my grief and try my damnedest to make a positive out of it. Sometimes that is easy and other times, it knocks me on my ass. Live and learn, my friends, live and learn. Experience all the ups and downs and when life kicks you in your balls, get back up and smile knowing that you endure.
Or, if you're like me, pour yourself some rum and buy some pretty nail polish.
We take turns pissing each other off and usually I am over it within the same day because I think it's stupid for me to be angry with my ex-husband. But C takes it to the extreme, as usual. And I'm not sure what I did or said this time but obviously it was something because when he's pissy with me, he won't speak to me or return calls, texts or emails. It's the most annoying damn thing. I'm trying to get information from him and he's not cooperating. Way to breach our agreement, you sorry SOB.
I received some paperwork in the mail the other day pertaining to all this. I was going over it and literally not understanding a word because legal jargon just makes my eyes cross when a particular sentence jumped out at me: .....Legal blah blah blah....[C and Amanda] were married July 15, 2006 and divorced December 18, 2013. I just stopped for a second and couldn't breathe. Right there in black and white, all legal and shit. Never mind that we've been split up for 16 months. Never mind that we've both spewed hateful words at each other. Never mind that I have another man sleeping in my bed or that he has a girlfriend. Never mind that I've seen the actual divorce decree with the judge's signature and official TX seal. Nothing made it real until I saw it written like that. It bothered me.
Divorce wasn't something that was suppose to happen to C and me, not us. Hell, we were C and Amanda for so long that I didn't know anything else. I knew him better than I knew myself; every scar, every freckle, every story. I took care of him after surgeries, when he was sick and washed his damn boxers. 13 years of love notes, gifts and memories that became meaningless in a single sentence: I want a divorce. I know I'm happier now, I know that I've found a me that I had lost over the course of our marriage but it doesn't make it ok. Nothing will make it ok because I took our marriage seriously and it failed. I failed, he failed, we failed. And that sucks.
Dealing with infertility and my Dad's death, I've learned that grief is entirely it's own entity. A very real emotion that demands attention, often at the oddest moments. One that comes and goes as it pleases. One you can't predict, even when you try. Dealing with my divorce, I've learned that grief isn't an emotion that ends, it just evolves. It changes and morphs into emotions you can't possibly understand. It affects every aspect of yourself and fighting that is futile. You just have to accept that grief is in your life now, permanently. It will always be there, a dark shadow lurking in the background of your life and all it's moments. It's far-reaching and unforgiving.
But, living with grief, while it changes you, it also shows you things about yourself that you never knew or appreciated. For instance, it taught me that I have to enjoy life. I have to endure my life. I have to keep living because grief has taught me just how precious life is. Just how amazing laughing with your loved ones truly is. Just how amazing it is when someone expands their family. Just how amazing a supportive and loving partner is. I marvel at the smallest things now and openly express my feelings because you are never guaranteed another.
It's a double-edged sword. And I'd much rather have my Dad alive and to have never experienced the pain of infertility or divorce. But, since I have experienced those pains, I live with my grief and try my damnedest to make a positive out of it. Sometimes that is easy and other times, it knocks me on my ass. Live and learn, my friends, live and learn. Experience all the ups and downs and when life kicks you in your balls, get back up and smile knowing that you endure.
Or, if you're like me, pour yourself some rum and buy some pretty nail polish.
December 1, 2013
Dear Dad
When the clock struck midnight and I watched the date flip to December, my stomach just dropped. It doesn't seem possible that it's been two whole years since you died. My mind literally has the hardest time wrapping itself around that fact. I guess it's how I cope, staying just a tad in denial, maybe because accepting it fully and completely would be so absolute. And it's an absolution that I just can't face yet and I'm not sure I really ever will. I mean, logically, I know you're gone but oh man my heart just doesn't want to believe it.
Since you left us, this time of year is always so bittersweet for us. Once that calender flips to October and the days start passing, the grief we always carry just gets heavier every day. Until we eventually land on December 2nd and it just topples us over. The day we all despise because it's the day our hearts lost a piece that we can never replace. Not that we want to but we know we have to go on and so we're learning how to live without you. So many people told me when you died that time heals all wounds. They're wrong though, that is a load of bullshit. All time does is continue and it carries you with it, no matter how much you resist. Time shows you how to learn the new normal that is your life now. Time teaches you how to make peace with the fact that you have a dead parent. You learn how to live with that hole left behind. And losing you left behind a hole the size of the Grand Canyon.
I miss you so much and to such a depth, that I no longer remember what it's like to not miss you. I miss hearing your laugh and seeing you smile. I miss saying "Dad" and you responding to it. I miss listening to you and Mom bicker. I so desperately wish that you were still here. Because the wishing goes hand in hand with the missing, of course. I wish you could play with the grandchildren, they're getting so big. I wish you could give me advice about everything. I wish you could see this house. I wish you could see T get married in two weeks. I wish you were here to hold Mom's hand because she so badly needs that. I just wish I could wrap my arms around you and hear you say, "Amanda".
I've had a really hard time since you left. I haven't always handled it in the most graceful way either. But I hope you are proud of me and how far I have come. I hope you think I'm making the right decisions. I hope I'm honoring you in a way that makes you shake your head as a slow grin stretches across your face. I hope you know just how much I love you and I hope you aren't missing us too badly.
Two years, Dad, two whole fucking years. I'd give anything to have you back because sometimes a girl just really needs her daddy.
Since you left us, this time of year is always so bittersweet for us. Once that calender flips to October and the days start passing, the grief we always carry just gets heavier every day. Until we eventually land on December 2nd and it just topples us over. The day we all despise because it's the day our hearts lost a piece that we can never replace. Not that we want to but we know we have to go on and so we're learning how to live without you. So many people told me when you died that time heals all wounds. They're wrong though, that is a load of bullshit. All time does is continue and it carries you with it, no matter how much you resist. Time shows you how to learn the new normal that is your life now. Time teaches you how to make peace with the fact that you have a dead parent. You learn how to live with that hole left behind. And losing you left behind a hole the size of the Grand Canyon.
I miss you so much and to such a depth, that I no longer remember what it's like to not miss you. I miss hearing your laugh and seeing you smile. I miss saying "Dad" and you responding to it. I miss listening to you and Mom bicker. I so desperately wish that you were still here. Because the wishing goes hand in hand with the missing, of course. I wish you could play with the grandchildren, they're getting so big. I wish you could give me advice about everything. I wish you could see this house. I wish you could see T get married in two weeks. I wish you were here to hold Mom's hand because she so badly needs that. I just wish I could wrap my arms around you and hear you say, "Amanda".
I've had a really hard time since you left. I haven't always handled it in the most graceful way either. But I hope you are proud of me and how far I have come. I hope you think I'm making the right decisions. I hope I'm honoring you in a way that makes you shake your head as a slow grin stretches across your face. I hope you know just how much I love you and I hope you aren't missing us too badly.
Two years, Dad, two whole fucking years. I'd give anything to have you back because sometimes a girl just really needs her daddy.
January 20, 2013
Confusion
Getting on with life after divorce is a strange concept to me. It's impossible to just shut down all those feelings and I find it confusing how up and down I am most of the time. I am happier than I've been in a long time and often I am so glad to have C out of my life. We rarely have contact and I much prefer it that way, I need space to sort it all out. I was doing so good and was on such a high this past week. Then C called yesterday to announce he was in town and on his way over to return some of my stuff and pick up a couple of his things.
Seeing him after two months was like a punch to the gut. He looked damn cute and all I wanted to do was throw myself into his arms. Instead we fought and said horrible things before calming down and talking like adults. While he was here, I got a phone call that one of my uncles lost his battle with cancer. C never said a word about it and left today to go back. I just wanted to cry in his arms and it made me so sad that I couldn't. I'm so upset with myself for feeling this way and cried because I really wish I didn't love him anymore. I really don't wish to see him and it's a good thing he's moving to NY so I won't have to randomly bump into him around town.
My feelings are all jumbled up now. Grief over my uncle, which brings back memories of my Dad's death. Grief over my failed marriage, which makes me fear I'll suck at any future relationship. Anger that I still care about C and desperation that I'll never truly get over his stupid ass. I want to hate him and oh man, sometimes I do, but I also still love him and that hurts the most. I pray at night for God to take away my love for C but so far, it's not happening. Guess it doesn't quite work that way, unfortunately.
All this happened Saturday and it's ironic but I had such a great Friday. I had been text-flirting with KA all day and had made out with a cute guy at a bar that night. I was feeling so good about my life! Now I just feel sad, I know this will pass but getting to that other side is such a bitch. I really need a fast forward button, wouldn't that just be so much easier than processing feelings and having to feel all these damn emotions?
Any good thoughts and prayers are much appreciated right now. The next few days are going to be very hard for me and my family. Cancer is a bitch.
Seeing him after two months was like a punch to the gut. He looked damn cute and all I wanted to do was throw myself into his arms. Instead we fought and said horrible things before calming down and talking like adults. While he was here, I got a phone call that one of my uncles lost his battle with cancer. C never said a word about it and left today to go back. I just wanted to cry in his arms and it made me so sad that I couldn't. I'm so upset with myself for feeling this way and cried because I really wish I didn't love him anymore. I really don't wish to see him and it's a good thing he's moving to NY so I won't have to randomly bump into him around town.
My feelings are all jumbled up now. Grief over my uncle, which brings back memories of my Dad's death. Grief over my failed marriage, which makes me fear I'll suck at any future relationship. Anger that I still care about C and desperation that I'll never truly get over his stupid ass. I want to hate him and oh man, sometimes I do, but I also still love him and that hurts the most. I pray at night for God to take away my love for C but so far, it's not happening. Guess it doesn't quite work that way, unfortunately.
All this happened Saturday and it's ironic but I had such a great Friday. I had been text-flirting with KA all day and had made out with a cute guy at a bar that night. I was feeling so good about my life! Now I just feel sad, I know this will pass but getting to that other side is such a bitch. I really need a fast forward button, wouldn't that just be so much easier than processing feelings and having to feel all these damn emotions?
Any good thoughts and prayers are much appreciated right now. The next few days are going to be very hard for me and my family. Cancer is a bitch.
June 1, 2012
Dear Dad
It's been 6 months since you left us, 6 very long, emotional months. I am having a hard time understanding how time can keep moving forward without you. How is that you were here and then weren't? Sometimes your last day plays over and over in my mind. I wonder how I missed the signs that you were going to be slipping away, how I could have ignored what was blatantly staring me in the face? Guess they mean it when they talk about how strong denial can be.
Nights are the worse, sleep eludes me as your last breath plays over and over in my mind. It drives me from bed and this feeling of restlessness takes over. I walk around the house, mindlessly surf the net or watch your slideshow until the sun comes up and I can finally sleep. I can't explain why the dark sucks, I'm not scared but I also don't feel 100% safe either. I am eager to move back to TX so that I can be around Mom and the siblings again, I have a feeling that will help tremendously.
Speaking of moving home, we are about 5 weeks from the big move now! The house looks great, it's perfect and we couldn't love it more. I constantly daydream about it and have all these plans for the fun we'll have there. The only sad part is that you won't live with us. It's so hard hearing Mom talk about decorating her room, knowing you won't share it with her. She still gets really sad, we all do. We never dreamed you could miss a person so much. Or what it would feel like to hurt from the deepest part of your soul.
Everyone keeps telling me that it'll get easier, the pain less. But I think that's so stupid. The pain isn't easier or any less, if anything it's worse. I just know how to function a little better now despite that. I can laugh and enjoy life even though I carry this grief all the time. I can't think about Father's Day without tearing up and know it's going to be utter torture. Wish I could rewind time and spend one more day with you. I just want to hug you, hear you say my name. I want to hear you laugh. I want to see your smile.
I just want my Dad back.
Nights are the worse, sleep eludes me as your last breath plays over and over in my mind. It drives me from bed and this feeling of restlessness takes over. I walk around the house, mindlessly surf the net or watch your slideshow until the sun comes up and I can finally sleep. I can't explain why the dark sucks, I'm not scared but I also don't feel 100% safe either. I am eager to move back to TX so that I can be around Mom and the siblings again, I have a feeling that will help tremendously.
Speaking of moving home, we are about 5 weeks from the big move now! The house looks great, it's perfect and we couldn't love it more. I constantly daydream about it and have all these plans for the fun we'll have there. The only sad part is that you won't live with us. It's so hard hearing Mom talk about decorating her room, knowing you won't share it with her. She still gets really sad, we all do. We never dreamed you could miss a person so much. Or what it would feel like to hurt from the deepest part of your soul.
Everyone keeps telling me that it'll get easier, the pain less. But I think that's so stupid. The pain isn't easier or any less, if anything it's worse. I just know how to function a little better now despite that. I can laugh and enjoy life even though I carry this grief all the time. I can't think about Father's Day without tearing up and know it's going to be utter torture. Wish I could rewind time and spend one more day with you. I just want to hug you, hear you say my name. I want to hear you laugh. I want to see your smile.
I just want my Dad back.
February 9, 2012
finally some good
The good thing about January? Our trip to Nashville, which was so much fun and the perfect distraction from everything else. But the moment the clock flipped to the 27th, I started crying. My first birthday without my Dad and it was a lot harder than I imagined. So sad he'll never see me age beyond twenty-eight, so sad the days keep coming and going without him. Why hasn't the world stopped? Doesn't a man like him deserve that? I think I'm waiting for some grand send-off, a really spectacular way to say goodbye once and all. Not sure yet what or how that will happen but I know that it'll come to me and that it will be amazing.
So, here I am 29 years old and feeling every minute. Why does 29 sound so much older than 28? Even 30 sounds younger than 29! I've deduced that having a 9 in your age makes it so much worse, that weird filler year before you can celebrate a milestone and start a brand new adventure. I've decided to send the last year (sob) of my twenties (double sob) off with a bang! I'll spend it grieving, yes, but I'll also spend it growing and experiencing new things. Laughing more, listening better and living life to the fullest, it's all carpe diem up in here bitches! I've told C to just laugh and buckle in for this roller coaster, so far he's doing wonderfully. I swear that man is a saint...usually anyway.
If January's theme was bittersweet, than this month's is definitely impulsiveness. Evidenced by a spur of the moment trip to Houston for 4 days...where we also very impulsively bought a new house. Yep, a new house, in our hometown!!!! Well, technically we signed a contract for the new house to be built. It should be finished in mid-July and that's when we close and pay and all that painful stuff. It's big, really big compared to our current 1362 sq ft of loveliness. The new place is more than double that with enough bedrooms for my Mom, little brother, sister and niece to live with us for now. Mom will stay forever because now she's my prisoner but the siblings will move on after finishing school and securing jobs. I am so excited and ready for this big new chapter! I am quite busy these days pinning house ideas on Pin.terest and daydreaming about paint colors.
Tomorrow is 10 weeks since my Dad passed, both unbelievable and strange. I spend a lot of time wishing he was going to live with us too and imagining how that would be. Missing him deeply and thanking him for pushing this to happen so quickly.
So, here I am 29 years old and feeling every minute. Why does 29 sound so much older than 28? Even 30 sounds younger than 29! I've deduced that having a 9 in your age makes it so much worse, that weird filler year before you can celebrate a milestone and start a brand new adventure. I've decided to send the last year (sob) of my twenties (double sob) off with a bang! I'll spend it grieving, yes, but I'll also spend it growing and experiencing new things. Laughing more, listening better and living life to the fullest, it's all carpe diem up in here bitches! I've told C to just laugh and buckle in for this roller coaster, so far he's doing wonderfully. I swear that man is a saint...usually anyway.
If January's theme was bittersweet, than this month's is definitely impulsiveness. Evidenced by a spur of the moment trip to Houston for 4 days...where we also very impulsively bought a new house. Yep, a new house, in our hometown!!!! Well, technically we signed a contract for the new house to be built. It should be finished in mid-July and that's when we close and pay and all that painful stuff. It's big, really big compared to our current 1362 sq ft of loveliness. The new place is more than double that with enough bedrooms for my Mom, little brother, sister and niece to live with us for now. Mom will stay forever because now she's my prisoner but the siblings will move on after finishing school and securing jobs. I am so excited and ready for this big new chapter! I am quite busy these days pinning house ideas on Pin.terest and daydreaming about paint colors.
Tomorrow is 10 weeks since my Dad passed, both unbelievable and strange. I spend a lot of time wishing he was going to live with us too and imagining how that would be. Missing him deeply and thanking him for pushing this to happen so quickly.
February 2, 2012
my dad and my infertility
Babies weren't really on my mind prior to late October. I was focused on Halloween and while I was dreading yet another child-less holiday season, I just wasn't too preoccupied about babies and IF. My health had gone to shit again and we had dipped into our IVF savings to help fund the two ER visits in September. So, I was also focused on replacing what we took. Plus, my cardiologist put me on medication that comes with a high miscarriage rate so we weren't even able to cycle if we wanted.
Then came the news that forever changed my life and November was all about him. Don't get me wrong, I did sob over the fact that I would never see him hold my child but mainly I focused on him. When he died, a baby was the last thing on my mind and most days it still is. But, some days, the ache for a child hits me so hard that it leaves me stunned. I long to look into the eyes of my child and see something of my Dad left to remind me, to comfort me. Which, considering the azoo, makes a biological child unlikely. But it's still there, the want for a child that looks like me, like my Dad. I know it's all wrapped up and intertwined right now since his loss is so fresh. I know I am perfectly happy with adoption. But oh man does my heart beg for a piece of my Dad. A tangible part of the incredible man whom I adored. Who taught me what it is to be this strong, feisty and independent person I am. A man who was taken from me too soon.
The days I want a baby are usually after a really difficult day for me. The days were it's a challenge to get dressed and be normal, when the tears are frequent and the memories overwhelming. There are few comforts and fewer distraction on those days, those are the days I just want my Dad. I want to drive up to his house and see him sitting outside. I want to walk up to him with a big smile as I say, "Hi, Dad!" while he looks up at me with his honey colored eyes, grins back and says, "Hey, Amanda." I want that so badly. Just as badly as I want to have my child.
Grieving while struggling with infertility is an odd combo, on one hand I'm familiar with the grieving associated with IF but on the other hand, this grief is so very different. Up until this, IF was the worst thing that had ever happened to me but now it pales in comparison to burying my Dad. IF doesn't seem so scary now and I don't really worry or obsess over it anymore. I know this can all change the further I get in my grief and I know it can all change after we actually start towards getting our baby but right now this is what it is.
I keep wishing I could go back in time to a year ago. Hug my Dad tighter, tell him constantly I love him and how special he is to me, never leave Texas so I could spend hours just soaking him up...and mainly, I would run, not walk, to my IVF clinic and see him hold my newborn.
Then came the news that forever changed my life and November was all about him. Don't get me wrong, I did sob over the fact that I would never see him hold my child but mainly I focused on him. When he died, a baby was the last thing on my mind and most days it still is. But, some days, the ache for a child hits me so hard that it leaves me stunned. I long to look into the eyes of my child and see something of my Dad left to remind me, to comfort me. Which, considering the azoo, makes a biological child unlikely. But it's still there, the want for a child that looks like me, like my Dad. I know it's all wrapped up and intertwined right now since his loss is so fresh. I know I am perfectly happy with adoption. But oh man does my heart beg for a piece of my Dad. A tangible part of the incredible man whom I adored. Who taught me what it is to be this strong, feisty and independent person I am. A man who was taken from me too soon.
The days I want a baby are usually after a really difficult day for me. The days were it's a challenge to get dressed and be normal, when the tears are frequent and the memories overwhelming. There are few comforts and fewer distraction on those days, those are the days I just want my Dad. I want to drive up to his house and see him sitting outside. I want to walk up to him with a big smile as I say, "Hi, Dad!" while he looks up at me with his honey colored eyes, grins back and says, "Hey, Amanda." I want that so badly. Just as badly as I want to have my child.
Grieving while struggling with infertility is an odd combo, on one hand I'm familiar with the grieving associated with IF but on the other hand, this grief is so very different. Up until this, IF was the worst thing that had ever happened to me but now it pales in comparison to burying my Dad. IF doesn't seem so scary now and I don't really worry or obsess over it anymore. I know this can all change the further I get in my grief and I know it can all change after we actually start towards getting our baby but right now this is what it is.
I keep wishing I could go back in time to a year ago. Hug my Dad tighter, tell him constantly I love him and how special he is to me, never leave Texas so I could spend hours just soaking him up...and mainly, I would run, not walk, to my IVF clinic and see him hold my newborn.
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