I don't know if I would've been able to watch my father suffer. He had a terminal illness. It just wasn't something you could see. I suppose I did watch him suffer. I just didn't know it. Nor did he. But is it easier to watch someone suffer and then they pass? Or something so sudden and unexpected?
I could throw a shit ton of quotes here or analogies about living each day to the fullest but that's bullshit. We don't. We have people, places and things that will drag us down no matter how damn positive we feel life is. It's just life. My father used to say, "It's a bitch, life, and then you die." And trust me when I say this will not be a favorite blog of mine amongst my own friends and family who are out there right now fighting the fight just to stay alive. I hate Cancer. I hate drugs. Even the ones I take to stay somewhat sane. I hate anything that prevents us from being who we are. I can now put in that God only gives us that which we can handle. Well I'm sorry. But sometimes that's bullshit too. Because some days it's harder than others and there is no reason why. You just either dig deep and hope you can dig out.
I'm not the same person I was September 22nd. To be honest with you I don't even know who that girl was. I don't remember her. I don't remember a minute before the minute Sister called me and told me my father died. Maybe I never will. Maybe I never want too.
A co-worker asked me today if anyone had taken a step back and recognized the personal loss I experienced. Not just the end result. Or all the bullshit that comes with tying up the loose ends of a life that wasn't expecting to end like that. And you know what? Yes some people have. But I wouldn't, COULDN'T be my sister right now. Well probably ever, which is why we were made so completely different. She personally has had to put all of that aside to get Dads affairs in order. All while finally realizing for the first time in her life, that people do not always mean well. That people are for the most part selfish assholes. Dad adored her. Worshipped the ground she walked on. But she also didn't have to experience his true heartache. And see it. And live in it. Which I did. BUT. She just gets to deal with this crap, which frankly is so much worse. I am sorry Sister from the bottom of my heart. That you were chose to do this. My only saving grace is that you wouldn't approve of how I would've done things so I think he made the best choice.
Food doesn't taste the same. Sunsets don't look the same. The sun doesn't feel the same on my skin. I hate winter. And not because this one sucks. My relationships are different. I've alienated myself from friends and family because I don't even know how to function around what my life was BEFORE.
I mean well. I try to live an authentic life. And if you think I CHOSE this life, you are dead wrong. No one chooses to be judged. And no one is born judging. I try to be a good friend. A good employee. A good sister. A good daughter.
I miss him. I miss it all. The sale of everything he ever loved and touched is coming up. And if I thought the contents of his home was tough. It was nothing compared to this. And I'm not ready. I can't even go to Maquon. Driving there two days in a row to get in a car to catch a plane damn near killed me. That which doesn't kill us right? Bullshit. That which doesn't kill us just makes us hurt. And angry. I don't feel fun anymore. I don't know what I feel honestly. I am not even sure I am feeling at all.
All I know is I am tired of the cliches.
