Just a Simple Confession

 Me and my dad during a family vacation to Florida 1989

I have been feeling some kind of way for the past two weeks.  It’s been weird.  I’ve been anxious, unable to sleep, and off balance.  I have vacillated between feelings of happiness and inexplicable sadness.  And if I’m not sad, I’ve been feeling like I should be.  Initially, I simply attributed my mood swings to loneliness.  My baby has been gone visiting her father so I just assumed Oh I miss her and my usual schedule is thrown off.  But she’s back home now and I still have insomnia.  I still have this weird anxious feeling.  It wasn’t until I was perusing Facebook last night that it hit me.  A friend of mine tagged me in a picture and the picture was of my father and Isaac Hayes.  The caption stated that they passed 5 years ago and they were taken way too soon. 

Today is the fifth anniversary of my father’s death.  And it’s not like I haven’t known that.  I couldn’t forget August 9 if I wanted to (and trust me there are times that I definitely want to).  I’ve even mentioned it quite a few times within the month of July.  I guess knowing and experiencing truly are two different things because now that the moment is here, I am hit with a deep sadness.  Upon his passing, a friend of mine told me, I couldn’t tell you that it gets easier, but I can tell you that it gets more manageable.  In my oh so humble opinion, she is absolutely correct.  The pain I feel isn’t any less today than it was the moment the doctor informed us (my mother and me) that he was gone.   However, the pain is no longer such a shock to my system.  It’s familiar now.  The ache and longing in my soul is no longer foreign.  It’s with me every day, as it has been for the past 5 years.  And please understand that I’m not depressed.  I’m not in a dark place.  I am healed.  I just know that the void of my father’s absence will never be filled and it’s ok.  I’m in a space where I can laugh more than I cry.  I can remember good times.  I’ve even reconciled the fact that I am so much like him (something I detested when he was alive).  I catch myself sounding just like him and I smile.  I know that as long as I live, a part of him does and that makes me so proud.  I can talk to my daughter about her grandfather with affection and pride without feeling sad that her memories are so scarce.  I can relish that he at least had the opportunity to enjoy her for a whole year and a half.   

But, I’ll admit, that I am not always able to be so up beat.  On certain days of the year, the ache feels more agonizing, the void feels deeper, my heart feels heavier, and my soul just a little more weary.  Today is one of those days.  Today is the day where I admit that one of my biggest fears is living life longer without him than I did with him (in the physical sense).  Today is the day where perspective truly takes meaning because I know that 30 years is a significant amount of time, yet I don’t feel like it was enough time with my Daddy.  Today is the day where I cry more than I usually do—not that I intend to.  It always just sort of happens.  But above all else, today is the day that I remember a little more.  I remember his smile. I remember his laughter.  I remember all the lessons.  I remember all the times he got on my nerves and wish he was here to do it again.  I remember hearing his voice and thinking, “Man does he know how to be quiet?”  I remember his face the day I told him I was pregnant, and how he cried upon hearing the news. And most importantly, I remember how much I love him.  Thankfully, I don’t have any regrets.  I know that we do the best that we can in the moments.  We both did the best we could by one another, and in my humble opinion, we did pretty damn good.  Today as they say, is just one of those day.  So because I feel this way, I usually like to do something significant.  It makes me feel good to do something really significant.  But I don’t do it because he died.  I like to do it because he lived.  And I know that because he lived, I do as well.  I guess all I’m saying is that I love and miss my Daddy. And in the words of Forrest Gump, that's all I have to say about that.