Today is the first morning I woke up, walked past the office and expected to see my dad sitting at his desk working on numbers… or on the computer Facebook stalking Bridge and I… and he wasn’t there. I instantly realized this, and then I had to remind myself that he’s not there and he’s never coming back. Which is still so strange and so weird. I honestly don’t know to do with this foreign subject called death. And I wonder… How did my dad do everything he did? I feel so overwhelmed… and there are three of us doing his job. I don’t know how he did his job and found time to clean, do the yard and tinker with his motorcycle.
How does it get easier with time? Does it get easier because you move on with life? Because you find happiness, love and joy in other things? Because life evolves and you adjust to the new changes, or just because that’s life and it moves on whether you like it or not? Whichever it is, and it maybe all three…. I hate to think that dad is just frozen in time now. Death means his life here on earth ended on June 2 at 7:14 pm and that’s strange. My mom lost her dad when she was 19… and I never understood any of it. She tells stories of how funny and wonderful he was and I’ve always had an outsider view on how she feels. Even during holidays, especially Thanksgiving, she gets misty and it hurts her. Now… well.. now I share those same feeling with her. Which probably means I am closer to my mom than ever before because I am am truly beginning to understand her thoughts and feelings.
And it sucks. To have someone you hold so dear to your life frozen in time. You move forward, while they stay there. And they will never again move forward in this life. You can only carry the memory of them with you in life… and while that comforts me some, it still sucks.
My father was so intricate in my life that I never imagined this would happen. He’s just always been there. I’ll never forget the day he told me, “well Amanda, you’re one of my best friends. I can talk to you about things.” I never saw this until he told me. I knew we were close, but I never realized he considered me one of his best friends. And honestly, he was one of my best friends. To me, my dad was the man I could go to with anything… and even if he didn’t know the answer, he would listen. Sometimes.. well a lot of times… he would argue with me, but he still listened to me. And I value that. I value that I could shoot him and email at 2 am to just give him my thoughts on life.
And when I look back at the last year of life, I see that the emails I sent him involved me showing my appreciation for him and the occupation he choose… and it makes me feel somewhat better because I did begin to appreciate him more. And though I hate contacting businesses and having to tell them “my dad passed,” it does help me some because I learn how much he was loved, admired and respected by those that surrounded him. And it gives me a want to honor and respect him in death because so many are willing to do whatever they can to help us finish the house… and continue to give the quality work my dad always expected.
But… I still can’t get over how he is frozen in time. All moments with him are frozen in time, but now he’s frozen in time. I won’t share anymore moments with him. It’s so strange. But then it encourages me to continue to live in moments because with time I’ve learned that moments are alive, pregnant with life… and we should live in them. Not live in the past, full of regret and guilt… Not to live in the future full of worry or daydream… But live in the moment. It’s something I’ve been working on since moving to Cali, and something I encouraged my dad to do. See we both have a fear of money… it’s really stupid, but a control issue. And I’ve been working on living in the moment and not allowing things like moment control my day to day life… And I so hoped that dad would jump on board with this… But he didn’t. So now, he… like all of the moments surrounding him… are frozen in time forever.
***photo is from my best friends wedding in April. Dad was throwing birdseed at me, on me and down my dress…. So grateful we both lived in this moment. I know whenever dad was goofing around, he was always living in the moment. That’s for sure who Chris Winder was 🙂