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Sunday, November 20, 2016

Grief Reminds Me...


Grief reminds me of the ocean when a storm is brewing or raging... It's dark, violent and it's beautiful. Grief comes in stages... pretty much the same way... however, the beautiful part is from the memories that you hold closest to you.




Today is a bad day. I was fine when I got up, and then I started thinking about my dad. Maybe it's because yesterday my sister took two kittens to his wife... after he passed, within 8 months their three dogs died too. They were old. It made me sad for her. They loved their animals. I know she was heartbroken. But my sister did a good deed and told me it put a little bit of a light back in her eyes.
You know, before my dad died, I did not have a single picture of him put out anywhere. After he was gone I put one up beside my desk... so I could see him everyday. Funny how that happens.
Some days, it makes my throat clog up and tears run down my face and I hate that. I hate emotion sometimes. It pisses me off... I can deal with anger much better than grief.
Thanksgiving is coming, not that I spent many of them with him since I grew up... (long story) but we communicated fairly often even when our relationship was really strained. December 12th marks his one year passing and December 17th is his birthday.
I'm sad, but really fucking angry too.
I'm pissed off at him for never making an effort to really know my son. My son will remember him as the man with crazy hair in the green truck. I'm pissed off with how much and how often he lied about the stupidest things. I'm pissed off at how often he used to call me just to ask to borrow money. ...but at the same time...
I miss his stupid retarded jokes, and how much he could make me laugh. I miss that even when things were so wrong he would listen to me complain about whatever it was that was making me insane. I miss how much he would do his very best to embarrass me in public. I miss so much. I just miss him. I also realize that he, though he was flawed as fuck... just like we all are... did the best he felt he could. Now that I'm older I see that. I understand that.

Just because it wasn't always right, doesn't mean it was always wrong. It doesn't mean he didn't try his best. Just because his 'right' looked different than mine did/does.
I miss the man I idolized at age 10. I miss the man I learned to resent at 13. I miss the man who he used to be. I miss the man that he really was.
I am so grateful for the time I spent with him in the last couple of months before he died. Because we were able to bridge some of the gap. We were able to talk to each other like we were never able to do before.
I hold those moments close.
And as much as I hate to ever show vulnerability in any way... and believe me, I am choking on my pride right now, sometimes it is necessary. It's okay to be a hard ass and it's also okay to find an outlet to vent. Because grief comes in waves. Not always when you expect it. You have your highs and lows. The good days and the bad. Today was bad... but the evening is much better.
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