Tears of No Reply...
Most days I am happy. Most days I am too busy to think that much. That is the key. The truth is if I think too much I remember and if I remember then I hurt.
I remember that in October 2003 I lost my dad, my friend and maybe the one person that really understood me. Its like I have lost part of me and everyday I try to forget why I don't feel so whole. I hate to remember because its like opening a floodgate. I remember how we used to laugh and then I remember that fateful day and the numbing days after. I remember relatives coming for food and I remember serving countless pieces of pie and cups of coffee. I remember thinking "is this right?" "Is he really gone and can I follow?" Then something would snap me back to reality and there I was again telling someone that it would be alright and that it was his time and other inane things that are intended to soothe. But the one person I couldn't soothe was me. Its easier to forget about yourself and to focus on what you have to do to get through the day. I believe that attitude has carried for more than a year. But sometimes I grow weary mentally and when that happens the feelings I have locked up inside wash over me.
Sometimes I dread the night when it is quiet and all I do is think. I think that maybe I am being a big ass baby because I had my dad for awhile while others never knew who their dads were, and in light of the tsunami tragedy where families were ripped apart by a force of nature- I have nothing to complain about. So I don't. I swallow it and take it- cause I am strong and I take pride in my stregnth.
Except it doesn't work all the time. Like droplets of rain leading to a storm, little thoughts slip out one by one to a few chosen people. I say softly- "I miss my dad" or "he would have liked this." Or I even say to myself while looking up at the sky "what are you doing?", "are you coming now", "there is so much good music out right now." And even if there is no reply- I know he hears.
No one wants to be the "misery girl"- least alone me. I would never want people to pity me. Because what can they say- "I'm sorry" or "I know" or offer up an experience that they think is like yours. All of which provides a weird silence. So I tuck my lonliness away, cause I know I will talk to it later. It will come out later- when the night is quiet and when working people have gone to bed- I lay there and think.
Sometimes I think about how differently people deal with death. Some cry uncontrollably, some are grouchy, some close themselves off and don't deal with it. I deal with it every day and I know I am triumphant most of the time. But sometimes I get stuck in a rut like I have been for the last week or so. I have been going through the motions of work and life. I'm not sure if others can tell the difference. But while writing this I have realized that I am getting ready to pick myself up again. Life is cyclical and mine goes in a pattern of insane happiness and ambition to a dormancy period to a rebirth. I am starting that rebirth right now. And that makes me happy.
I just had to get out my funk (and I'm tired of relaying the same problems to friends and family- so I thought maybe writing it would have the same conclusion- which I think it has). Thanks for being patient. I hardly ever am. I want so much to get on with my life. It will take some time but I will. My dad always told me that every day is a new day and that all you have to do is try your best and treat people like you would want to be treated. I can honestly say that I have been trying dad...
