Today’s dad’s birthday… He was almost 53. 53 and young… but now he’s 52 and frozen in time.
Last night I logged onto Facebook and clicked on “6 upcoming birthdays”… and then it hit me really hard when I saw “Chris Winder.” I immediately went from annoying my sister and laughing, to crying. It was foreign the way those feelings hit me so quickly and the tears started flowing so quickly.
My thoughts went from throwing pillows across the room at Bridge and they immediately landed on dad and all the things that have happened over the last month… and how he’s not here and I missed him so much in that moment. So much that it hurt really bad.
And today, well today I’m at my grandparents because they’re feeling worse than I am and I hate that. I hate that they have to think about the fact that their son should be 53, but he’s not. He’s not here. He’s gone forever. My grandfather just said, “Still doesn’t seem real. He should walk through the door at any moment.” Then he pushed a button on his remote control fan, which made me giggle and feel a little less sad (you have to know Bill Winder).
Deep down though… there were so many things I wish I knew about my dad that I never did. So many questions I never asked him or thought to ask him. I had these thoughts last night and told Bridge about it… and she agreed but didn’t know what kind of questions I was talking about. So, I told her I just meant about life. I feel like my dad was such a closed book on so many parts of his life. And now… well now I’ll never know the answers.
And after last nights thoughts dad was in my dream. We knew he was going to die in a matter of days, but he was in great health… and I was ready and willing in the dream to ask him so many questions and gain some answers. Unfortunately I woke up before asking, but he was sitting at a bar in my dream… so willing to talk because death was so close.
But the dream provoked me to think… it provoked me to think, if I knew someone was going to die 6 months before their death… what would I ask them? What would I want to know? What would I do with them? Where would we go? If they were close to me, would I move to wherever they were to spend time with them?
And… How would I feel to know death was so close? I think dad’s looming death wasn’t real enough in that moment because my faith was kind of misleading me some. I was living with rose-colored glasses, believing that he would be healed. And so I kind of missed that real moment. The real moment of knowing death was about to be a reality. I even disagreed when he doctor came in to tell him they were about to dope him up with morphine to take all the pain until he died… I disagreed hearing dad’s response too, “Doc, I know where I’m going though.” I kept thinking this isn’t going to happen.
So maybe I was in denial… but the truth is, I wish I could ask him so many questions about his own life. And in a sense, it’s kind of put life in perspective for me… to live each day to the fullest and drain it for everything it’s worth. To ask the questions I may feel afraid to ask someone. To take chances and risks in moments. To use my curiosity to it’s full potential and discover what’s behind each closed door in front of me…
Because if I don’t, well if I don’t the moment may never come again. Or I might loose someone that had the keys to that moment. And then I’ll never know or I’ll have never experienced something wonderful… or awful. And that would be terrible… a life unlived and unknown because I didn’t ask or even try.
I’ve always struggled with insecurities and self-confidence. So many insecurities… Do I have confidence? Do I have enough of it? How do I use it? What do I do with it all? And I think and feel like this situation is teaching me once again to be confident. To be confident and ask even when I’m afraid… or even when the other person doesn’t have the answer… Because well then at least I tried.