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Tuesday, March 24, 2015

HAPPY 75TH BiRTHDAY, DAD...


I miss you...
It broke my heart to lose you
but you did not go alone.
A part of me went with you
The day God took you home.
If tears could build a stairway 
And heartaches make a lane,
I'd walk my way to Heaven and
Bring you back again.
In life I loved you, Daddy
In death, I love you still.
And in my heart, you hold a place 
No one can ever fill.



Sunday, March 22, 2015

WHAT DO I DO NOW...

    Exactly two weeks ago today, I saw my Dad for the last time. For some obscure reason, I thought he would always be here. I realize that everyone dies, including him, but I wasn't prepared. We knew it was coming. Less than a year ago, after he had his heart attack, something within me knew that his time was limited. But still, I refused to accept it. I kept hoping that the doctors would magically be able to "fix" him, and he'd be around for another 20 or so years. But that was not to be. About six weeks ago, when the doctors evaluated him and told us there was nothing else that they could do for him, I finally realized that we were nearing the end. So my sister & I went up to Georgia to meet with the Hospice coordinators, and get him settled in at home. Less than three weeks later, he was gone.

    And so now, I am in mourning. Not a day has gone by that I haven't had at least one meltdown. Less than a week after the funeral, I was watching a video of a deer eating a bird. And my first thought was "I have GOT to tell Dad about this!". And, immediately afterward, I remembered that I couldn't. In my head, I am keeping track of how many days it's been. Remembering the sound of his voice... when I called him, he would greet me with "Hey, girl!", and when he would leave a message on my answering machine, he would end it with "Love you later."  Someone suggested that I take a drive to try and clear my head, but I don't dare. My urge to go to where he's at is too great, so I stay at home. I want to go there and talk to him and ask him why he left. Why he made the choices that he did in the last few years of his life. Why he couldn't/didn't give me the closure that I so desperately needed. And why, near the end, he was calling everyone by my name. And most importantly, where he's at now. Because of some of the choices he made, I'm not so sure where he ended up.

    It has been suggested to me that I talk to a therapist. But I don't see how that would alleviate the hurt, or help me to accept the fact that the one man who has been there for me my entire life isn't here anymore. Or maybe I'm trying to hang on to the hurt for fear that once it goes away, the memories will start to fade, as well. And I'm just not ready to let go, or to accept the fact that he's gone. Maybe some day, I will be...just not right now.