panther's lair

i haven't really been able to get the fact that it is my dad's birthday out of my head. i have been highly distracted- i worked for several hours this afternoon, but when all was said and done i hadn't accomplished all that much. i feel like i have had my head elsewhere most of the day.

my family has donated money to the rose garden where my dad is...located now. i talked to all of them today- and that made it all the more noticeable to me that i did not talk to my dad. my grandma and mom both told me how my grandparents brought some ribs to my parents' home for his birthday last year, and how even though he was already in bad shape he still ate really good and they had a nice day. on that day, my grandma said it never occurred to her that it would be the last. he hadn't looked good for awhile but it was mid-may of last year that things started getting really bad. so even on his birthday last year, i think they all still assumed they had at least 1 more year with him.

then he just went downhill.

when i think now about how my dad spent his last 3-4 years just lying around on a couch it kills me. when i think about how he had wanted to get a laptop so he could play on the computer and do email and stuff to give himself something to do, but how he never got around to that it also kills me. when i think about how i will never go target shooting with him again, and while i can certainly go whenever i want to it will never be the same as it was when i was little, that kills me too. when i think about how i will be going to visit my family in mid-june and how i won't see him at the house- that kills me.

when i think about how i barely touched him at all when he was dying, how i kept wanting to but something inside me kept me frozen and unable to move, so i did nothing...when i think about that it really kills me. because now, now see- now i would give anything to hug him again. and if this me could give the me from about a year ago a piece of advice- it would be to sit with him more. even if i couldn't do it while he was awake, or when my other family members were awake- i got up a lot at night- and i would walk in and look at him for a few minutes- but now i wish i would have sat down by him while he slept. while he slept, and my grandparents slept- i wish i would have sat down beside him and held his hand or stroked his forehead. i couldn't do it when others were there and awake because i was afraid i would break down...i was afraid i would lose it and what...show emotion in front of my family. i don't really know. all i know is my dad was dying, and i was scared, hurt, confused, angry, sad, in shock, and generally in the middle of a situation unlike anything else i had ever experienced- and this was on the heels of the unexpected death of a close friend and getting married to my sweet one, and there were some things that i didn't do exactly as i wish i would have. i can forgive most of that- but i wish i would have taken that time when nobody else was around to just sit with him. me and him...i could talk to him about animals, or target shooting. i could imagine him talking about baseball, or talking about political views or other things that i disagreed with him on- things that made me crazy but i would happily listen to him say them again if i had the chance. why didn't i do that, even one night. why didn't i sit with him, tell him i loved him, and maybe tell him anything else that would have come to mind at the time.

but i didn't do that- and now i am forever left with the fact that i wasn't really there for my dad while he was dying. i do think that i did the best i could do at the time, and if i had thought of anything else i could have done i certainly would have...but now that i have had time to reflect- i really really wish i would have had some alone time with him where nobody else would walk in or anything. maybe i could have cried or talked to him if i wasn't also worried that others would wander in- and that most of the time they were also already right there or in the very next room (with the door open). there wasn't anywhere to get away- and it didn't really occur to me to try and sneak in at night when others were asleep.

it's strange- all the different memories of my dad that i have had throughout this last year. many have been of good things- but i have also remembered several of his more irritating traits and qualities, or things he said or did. i like that i think i have a realistic view of him still- i think i came to terms with a lot of his flaws well before he died. although, his death has made me more aware of certain other things- like the amount of anxiety he had about everything. somehow i never picked up on that, or realized it for what it was, until recently...it is also interesting to me how similar i am to him in many ways (but how we are also in many other ways like different species). i wish i could say in inherited more of his positive traits- but i'm not so sure that is the case. at best, i'd say i got about half and half- some good and some bad traits.

i think about weird things, like how i will never eat at a restaurant with him again and have to wait for him to slowly smoke a cigarette after he was finished eating. how i will never have to watch (and hear...and usually smell) him fart and then shake his leg like he was trying to get it out of his pants. or any other the other disgusting fart related things that the man always did...i think about these and how i always hated those things that he did...

but even those things- even those things that i could never stand before- i'd take them again too...i want him back, flaws and disgusting habits and all.

of course- if i was somehow miraculously able to have the opportunity to really bring him back, i couldn't bring him back to the way he was the last several years. it's a weird feeling- to both wish you could bring a person back but also be grateful that they no longer have to go through whatever pain they had before...

the permanence of it all also seems to be occasionally trying to sink in. sometimes i think about how it isn't just this year that he missed...he missed this last year, and he will miss every single year that follows. when i am 50, he will still be gone. when i am 67, he will have been dead for more of my life than he was alive. that just doesn't seem possible.

things have already happened this year that he didn't get to hear about- my sister graduated and became a nurse (something he was very excited about) and now she and her boyfriend just bought a house. the boy got into the gifted program- my dad always asked about the boy...

the next two months will be rough i think. the anniversary of many big events happen in the next two months. my dad's birthday, the death of my friend, my dad's death, my friend's birthday (the one who passed away), my parent's anniversary, father's day...and thrown in the middle of all that is my sweet one and my wedding anniversary. at least there is a point of good among a lot of harder to get through days...

anywho, my brain feels like i could write forever, but my hands and back are done now...it's about time, i can't imagine how long this ended up being.