dark day 18

In the stages of grief, loss of memories isn’t mentioned. Which sometimes makes me feel like I’m the only one there.

After a loss, a common phrase that gets thrown around is “time heals all wounds”. But what they don’t tell you is that in that sadness you still have memories to cling to. Time not only took away the pain, but it seems to have stolen my memories too. After 18 years, there just seems to be a large, gaping hole.

Whenever the death of my dad comes up, especially when I tell the story to people that have never heard it, most apologize for having to make me relive it. But what is hard to explain (mainly because I don’t want to sound like a psychopath) is that it doesn’t make me sad to tell it anymore. After 18 years, I feel like I’m a narrator telling someone’s else’s story.

So either because I a masochist or just tired of not remembering and not feeling sad, I decided to borrow home movies (which yes require a VCR that I totally still have!!!) Although I’m still trying to find all the cords...

So in the meantime, I am flipping through a memory book I made several years ago (which I am so thankful I created).  I started to fear that I was beginning to forget him already, so I created a book writing down whatI did remember of him- his favorite things, what our Sundays (the only day we saw each other after the divorce) looked like, and what I remembered about him personally. Then it slowly evolved into letter writing to him. It became the only time I could say "daddy" anymore and I treasured it. It also helped in my grieving and missing him, because it was a way to tell him all I wish I could if he were still here.

16 years ago today

It's hard to believe that a teenage life ago (16 years) I lost my dad. My life literally turned upside down. And while this blog has been a space where I share how I feel about this day, sometimes I feel weird doing it. Am I sharing too much? Am I not sharing enough (but then again, I don't want this to be like a diary). 

I remember in the beginning- thinking, wishing, praying that it wouldn't always hurt so badly. Then the memory of the day reached a point where I felt okay (well, as okay as it can be). I didn't cry all day long. I didn't feel this giant hole that ripped apart my heart. And then, it started to feel foreign. I've spent more than half of my life now without a father- my father. Certain traits and familiarities I once could remember so well, I can't now. 

So it's now been 16 years. 

I'm still sad- there is a big part of me that is missing. A huge player in my life that never got to see me grow up, graduate high school and then college, become the teacher I always wanted to be, get married..... There aren't many people in my life these days that had met him. Which I guess is partly why I feel so bizarre on this anniversary. It's a sad one and most of the time I don't feel like there's anyone to talk to about it. No one mentions him to me outright, even today. And I feel like most people don't want me to bring it up-- I get it, it's a depressing subject. "So today is the anniversary of my dad's death." "Hey can we talk about my dead dad?" "So can I just mention my dead dad, because I don't really have a lot of memories of him anymore, so it's not like I can share those with you." Because the awful, terrible truth is that the memories I do still have are slim. They are memories that seem not worth sharing- we hung out on Sundays. We made a habit of going to blockbuster and subway. He bought me my first and only skateboard. Who wants to hear uninteresting stories like that???  

I'm not trying to sound emo (I'm not even sure if that's "the" phrase to use anymore). I'm not writing this to get pity, in fact, I would hate that to be the outcome. I also don't want to bring anyone down (which is another reason I never talk about this to people). 

The truth is, I feel like the world has forgotten this incredible man, and with that, I am forgetting him too. It's a flipping horrible feeling. 

And yes, I've tried  the "old fashioned" way of journaling memories. I even have a book of pictures to remember events and him. But it's not the same. Not having anyone to talk to me about him, it just plain sucks. No one else remembering what today is (and having only one friend send me their thoughts and love today) sucks. But I don't expect anyone else to remember I guess. And I don't want to be the debbie downer that brings it up. So I guess this is the catch-22. 

Death sucks. 

I guess that's all......

-k