Thursday, July 11, 2013

Remembering My Dad

In 9 days, it will be the anniversary of my father's death two years ago. He died on July 20th, 2011. It's hard to believe it has almost officially been two years. It doesn't feel like two years.

My father and I didn't have the best relationship. Lots of drama and pain in that part of my past that I don't really feel like writing about anytime soon. But I loved him and I miss him. I didn't think I would grieve when he died (he was sick for a long long time, and his death wasn't exactly unexpected), He was in pain every single day of his life for many years. and he was miserable. And in the end, he also did his best to make sure everyone around him was too.  So no, I really didn't think I was going to be sad when he left. But I was. I didn't cry at his funeral, but I did cry during the quieter moments in the days leading up to and after it.

For the first few days I was in shock.His death was not unexpected, we knew he was sick, but the way he went was. He was in and out of the hospital constantly because of his heart and his lungs failing. I always just assumed it would be one of those times that he would go. But instead, he dropped dead on the kitchen floor with my 9 year old little brother next to him, and that was it. He passed out all the time, so neither of them were alarmed. They called 911 expecting him to be just fine like every other time, and none of us really believed it when they told us he was dead. I remember, we picked my little brother up from my sister Maggie's house at around 3am, and he causally said, "so they are keeping him again I guess? Think he will be home anytime soon?" Because he, like I, was so used to him having episodes or whatever you call want to call them, and then coming home, that it never occurred to him our father could be gone.
 For the weeks and months afterwards, I was just really kind of numb. I didn't realize how numb until today. I was sorting through a box of cards that I have saved, showing some to my kids, and just reminiscing, when I came upon a stack of sympathy cards. I literally had no recognition of them, and when I started reading them I realized they were from friends and family sent to me when my dad died. I don't remember reading a single one of them. I remember getting them and being comforted that people were praying for me and my family, but honestly it was like looking at them for the very first time. How is that even possible???
After reading through them I realized that it is July and that my Dad must have died recently. Sure enough, 9 days to go. THAT'S when it hit me that it didn't hurt anymore. I can think about my dad and while it makes me sad, it doesn't hurt. Not the way it did before. Not that stabbing oh my gosh, please make it stop way. Not the I need to think about anything else but this way. I don't remember when I stopped counting the days since he had been gone. I know this time last year was hard. He died 3 days before his birthday. That whole week was hard, especially for my mom. One day it just wasn't on my mind anymore.
It's funny how you don't notice that you are done grieving until later. It's kind of like how you don't always notice when something stops hurting immediately. Huh. I wonder if it ever just stops hurting all together? Will there be a day that I can think of him and it won't hurt at all?

                                                                                          <3 Sarah

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